#ron speirs x reader
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band of brothers: types of kisses hc
(a/n: sorry this is so long… i tried to include a lot of easy company... but if your fav isn't here, please just send an ask and i'll add them!)
send an ask if you would like to be on my taglist! :) (taglist: @ronsparky)
[dick winters]
cautious kisses
dick does not like pda only because he's extremely private and wants your relationship to be for the two of you only... no matter how nosy nix is
but there still are occasional kisses to your cheek when he’s more relaxed in front of other officers
he's tender and careful too; dick is always cupping your face, a thumb brushing across your cheek or brushing hair away from your face
dick is always very gentle and a little unsure at times
especially at the beginning of your relationship, he feels incredibly inexperienced, or at the very least, out of practice
he’s very okay with you taking the lead when kissing because he doesn't want to do anything wrong
dick is tentative and private but very into it... it's a good thing he has an insane amount self discipline because otherwise he would be kissing you 24/7
[lewis nixon]
speaking of self discipline… lew does have it but he also chooses to ignore it most of the time, if he wants to kiss you then he's going to kiss you
so many morning kisses
honestly just anytime in bed because lew plays fast and loose with 'morning' and sleep cycles
absolutely never wants to get up, has to be coaxed with a lot of kisses and cuddling, it is a huge ordeal
he always kisses with some degree of mess, a little uncontrolled, perhaps a little desperate
a lot of sudden kisses too like you think you're safe and then boom he’s all of the sudden in the room, pulling you towards him
will take advantage of any opportunity no matter how small... does he have any shame? (no, not really)
lew does shockingly get a little shy sometimes about pda though
“i don’t want to rub it in their faces…" he'll insist, "y'know... what they don’t have”
sureeee... the blush on his cheeks says otherwise though
[carwood lipton]
carwood's speciality is definitely comforting kisses
lip is always paying attention to you and what you need and how you feel and that extends to physical affection
always wants you to feel okay, better than okay, great
and if a kiss can make you feel better then he’s more than willing to oblige
affection between the two of you is every casual and common, always kissing, holding hands, some sort of physical touch
constantly smiling in between kisses
he’s just that happy and loves you so much
but the comforting kisses & affection goes both ways
kissing the stress and worry away from his face and tracing his scar with your thumb before kissing it gently, your noses almost touching after you pull away to catch your breath, the two of you wearing twin smiles
and whenever you say goodbye or reunite, you both try not to make a scene, but it's always a little bit of a scene tbh... like having to be without carwood's kisses for a week is basically criminal
all the other men think it's extremely cute though, don't worry
[ron speirs]
stolen kisses (haha)
even his kisses are stolen!
he will always come out of nowhere and will always find time for a smooch
every time you think surely ron isn't in this area, he's supposed to be somewhere else, he's not in this building... you are proven wrong
is incredibly good at carving out time to see you... and finding private places for the two of you
like he's definitely scoped a few places out before he goes to find you
one time you were in his office kissing and someone knocked on the door and he huffs and pouts because he has to break away from you, even if it's only for a second- he's not happy about it
ron barks out, “not now," before returning to you will a warm, soft smile
heavy on kisses instead of words
ron is very physical...whenever you finally pull away from a kiss... you can always see things/emotions in his eyes that you know he's not ready to say yet and finds difficult to articulate
[don malarkey]
soooo many shy kisses
okay yes, don is kind of unhinged (stealing a motorcycle, drinking methanol, etc) but not with relationships... like flirting?? kissing??
he's still incredibly enthusiastic about your relationship... very much so
but he gets really shy around you, especially with kissing
turns beet red so easily, like you love kissing him and pulling away to see him blushing all the way up to the tips of his ears <3
it's just so fun and he's having a great time... and don cannot hide his emotions or what he’s thinking so whatever he's thinking always comes out when you're kissing
"god, you're beautiful. you should bring this dress to paris when we go next weekend. oh- y'know what, skip still owes me that $40 i lent him. i really need that for next week's pass so-"
"don," you interrupt gently, brushing a hand across his jaw
he'll blush and smile sheepishly, "right, i'm shutting up, back to kissing..."
he's shy yet so excited and wants to do everything right, willing to learn and wants to learn, and just wants his inner emotions and love for you translate with physical affection
and it definitely does! don is extremely endearing and you love him for it
[joe toye]
joe's kisses are always very intense
his eye contact, his touch, his raspy voice… everything is intense in the best way possible
his hands already feel like fire, so warm against your own skin
he loves just laying next to you in bed, just observing you and taking it all in
his passion definitely goes along with the intensity
he's also extremely private about affection with you, just because it means so much to him
tends to get vulnerable and emotional very easily
and really likes pillow talk and just listening to your voice, your stories, and your perspective
he likes your reassurance too, your love, he's never felt anything like this before
so whenever he can manage to have free time alone with you, he's always savoring it
joe could kiss you for hours, he truly loves taking it all in, going slow, and savoring the time you have together
[george luz]
late night kisses are a staple for the two of you
george gets so excited being with you he doesn't want to sleep
the biggest sleepover vibes
like you both very seriously decide to go to bed but then george says something funny or does his dike impression and then you both start laughing and talking again
and kissing again, sometimes the impressions are so good you have to reward him
you guys have a lot of late nights because of this
also do kisses for warmth and sharing body heat count?
huddling in a foxhole together, in the thick of it together, like yes they don't have much food, supplies, or ammo but george is not going to let them take kisses away from him too
oh my god, laughing in between kisses
sometimes he really can’t take himself that seriously
george is like don and gets very excited
he just feels so lucky to have you and has to kiss you accordingly
kissing you and just being with you can make him a little emotional… a happy little high
cigarettes have nothing on you and your kisses!
[babe heffron]
babe is kind of like a baby deer, he's a little clumsy and sometimes unsure but he's definitely got the spirit
he is confident but he does tend to second guess himself when it comes to you, he just doesn't want to mess anything up.
like what if he uses too much tongue or he headbutts you on accident... he's just overthinking it
and sometimes you just have to grab his arm and pull him toward you and kiss him yourself
when you're alone, babe lovesss laying on your chest letting you run your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead... but don't tell anyone
jk he doesn't care if anyone knows (and they absolutely do know)
and the guys can't even tease him that hard about it, that's much everyone loves babe... they're just happy for him tbh
babe definitely gets a little needy sometimes like where’s his daily kiss allotment :(
and he can get clingy... will 100% wrap his arms around, you pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder just because he hasn't seen you that much today
[eugene roe]
tired kisses are a doc roe staple
poor eugene, he's exhausted and jaded... a lot of the time… and the rest of the company gives the two of you space as often as they can because they know how much your presence helps him
tired kisses as in he is putting in effort but his lips don't move as fast or as needy
he's more languid and calm, and it's very enticing
forehead kisses too omg
he lovesss when you kiss his forehead; pull him against your body, your chest, your arms and he feels safe and secure
he likes kissing the top of your head too, his nose in the crown of your hair while murmuring something in french
you catch various words in french that after spending so much time with gene you can understand now
like mon ange, mon amour, ma moitié (my better half? sobbing)
your presence is so grounding for him and makes him feel more normal, like he's not constantly surrounded by death and pain
you make him feel like he doesn't have to be constantly on edge, like he can take his helmet off and not be on alert, like he hasn't totally lost himself in his job... your kisses are so grounding for him
[buck compton]
a lot of reassuring kisses
like sometimes he just has to kiss the worry off of your face
and vice versa, towards the end of the war it's not even just kisses but your presence and touch alone become extremely reassuring for him
but also... buck can be so cocky sometimes, he loves showing you off
you secretly (not so secretly) love it... like sorry it's hot
like once when the two of you were at a pub in england... he's gambling, he's drinking, he's smoking, and ofc he's kissing you!
what else is he supposed to do when he wins at darts or cards... come on
the guys hype him up and just hide their jealousy because you and buck very often seem like relationship goals
he's always touching you, like usually has a firm grip around your waist
always laughing together, everything you do together automatically seems so intimate
like in a room with the other guys... they do feel like they're intruding
just because you and buck are in the corner laughing and talking together, the love and intimacy feels like it takes over the entire room
it's just so passionate and obvious he's head over heels and that definitely comes across in his kisses
[joe liebgott]
joe's kisses strike me as tender but demanding and needy at the same time
he's a taker.... but also a giver so it evens out
some very, very eager kisses
like pushing you up against a wall, hand sliding up your thigh and mouth working down your neck...
joe is a great multitasker!
accidentally bites your lip once, it wasn't that hard or anything but he went bright red and was apologizing profusely, but also was like, "did you like it though..."
(you did but...)
bottom line is joe's just a tiny bit feral around you at all times honestly
you never know when he’s going to pull you into his lap and kiss you and you both loveeee when you sit on his lap
the men are very used to it by now
he also likes living on the edge, like who cares if the patrol's supposed to be back any minute now and could walk in at any time?
messy kisses like his mouth is just everywhere basically, he wastes absolutely no time
he is so noisy: whines, groans, moans, laughs, you get everything with joe
also loves when you tug and pull on his hair while kissing, he specifically requests it
but joe can also get incredibly soft and sweet and tender but that's strictly for your eyes only... he has a reputation to uphold ofc
he totally blows you kisses whenever one of you leaves the room... it starts ironically but now he really does enjoy doing it
[david webster]
oh david is just so romantic
like definitely over the top romantic... it's so serious to him
he's read enough (a lot) romance novels and craves that book and movie worthy relationship and love
his life IS a victorian romance novel and he will act accordingly
everyone else thinks it's incredibly cheesy but you think it’s really cute
it means so much passion whenever he's talking about you, talking to you, kissing you, etc
he's always trying to think of the right words to say and you’re like “david, just kiss me please”
ofc he obliges and he is very good at it
his touch is just always so tender, you can feel the passion and love through his kisses
he's a little hesitant sometimes, starts off slow but it's extremely easy to get him worked up and make him lose some of that self control that he works so hard to maintain and portray
[floyd talbert]
confident kisses
yeah... yeah, what more is there to say
floyd just has a way (from a lot of practice) with his mouth
he's also very attentive and is always surveying how you're reacting and feeling, always wants to make you feel good and lovesss watching your reactions
he loves when you make noises of surprise or pleasure, he always ends up grinning into your kiss, he just thinks it's sooo cute
however i do think the more serious your relationship gets and the more feelings that are attached, the more likely he gets nervous... just a little bit
but that's more with relationship things
the kissing he has down pat for sure
takes the lead, cups your cheek, always knows what to do with his hands and the perfect the angle to tilt his head
will sometimes stop super close to your lips and just grin, teasing kisses
floyd loves having all of your attention to himself, when you loop your arms around his neck, when your lips are on his face, when you're talking quietly only for him to hear, when you're the only one that actually calls him floyd, ugh he just melts
[shifty powers]
shifty is the absolute king of gentle kisses
like so so shy
especially at the beginning of your relationship, you definitely have to kiss him first and initiate everything
he's so scared of reading the moment wrong and messing everything up
which you always reassure him that he won't
he has literally the entire company hyping him up, they've been waiting for y'all to get together for basically years now
but once he's more comfortable, he's always wrapping his arms around you, smiling, and kissing you freely
he struggles to articulate all love and emotions he's feeling but you still love listening to him talk about it
he just blurts out "i love you so much" one day after kissing, when you're laying in bed in austria
and he immediately looks terrified, not that he regrets what he said because he most certainly means it, but he doesn't know what you're going to say
but it's only a few seconds before you grin and throw your arms around him, "i love you too," you mutter before kissing him, a little more intense, and with a little more fervor than your usual kisses
[bill guarnere]
his nick name of wild bill definitely applies to his kissing style
absolutely wild
sometimes borderline unhinged
especially if he's been drinking or partying
but also... if it's the two of you alone, having a mellow morning or night, bill does get soft
the other guys aren't even surprised by that, they know he has a soft and gentle side to him, they can see it whenever you're with him
bill is sporting a basically permanent smile while watching you
trying to burn the visual of you into his brain so he can keep it forever
his kisses are encapsulating and very distracting
he hates seeing you upset or stressed and he uses kisses and physical affection to help
loves holding you and being the big spoon
and you love it too
it's soooo comforting
and it's never easy to not be constantly reminded that you're in the middle of a war, about to jump into france, etc, but with him, his firm arms around you, it's a little easier to forget
[chuck grant]
chuck strikes me as very confident, kind of like tab
he just wants to appreciate you!
and shower you with love
he will never run out of ways and words to compliment you
he's been admiring you from afar for sooo long, now that your in his arms it feels incredibly surreal
his kisses are always firm and secure
and chuck really likes when you take the lead and take what you want from him
being away from you always stirs something extremely confident and desperate in him
really enjoys holding your hand
always having physical contact with you, that's a necessity
ooo... he loves having a hand on your thigh
especially if he can sneak it under the table during dinner or a meeting
just his hand sliding up and down, gripping and then releasing, and then looking at his innocent yet knowing smile...
that definitely leads to some intense kisses, your hands running through his hair, hand cupping his jawline, you leading the show
he lovesss getting a reaction from you
#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers#band of brothers imagine#band of brothers headcannon#dick winters x reader#carwood lipton x reader#ron speirs x reader#ron speirs imagine#lewis nixon x reader#don malarkey x reader#joe toye x reader#chuck grant x reader#bill guarnere x reader#babe heffron x reader#shifty powers x reader#floyd talbert x reader#david webster x reader#joe liebgott x reader#joe liebgott imagine#buck compton x reader#eugene roe x reader#george luz x reader
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Ronald Speirs x Medic!Reader Headcanons
Notes: Welcome to my Ron X reader headcanons! It goes through everything from Taccoa - post war!
Word Count: 13,768
Warnings: Usual Band of Brothers and war stuff, swearing, once you get to the smut part there's too many things to give warnings for (it's not nasty just super smutty and a lil' kinky)
Enjoy :D <3
============
TOCCOA / NORMANDY
For the first bit you're at Toccoa you think that he HATES you because he’s constantly glaring at you the whole time from afar
It gets to a point where you start getting really nervous whenever you catch him staring, so none of the guys ever leave you completely alone just so they know you’re safe, and because, “we don’t know the guy, he could be crazy.” “Donny, we signed up to jump out of planes, we’re all crazy.”
He leaves anonymous gifts for you on your cot
Nothing fancy, just something like an extra pair of socks when you get to England, or one day after you’re being teased by Don, Muck, and Penkalla and they accidentally rip the binding of your book there’s a fresh brand new copy packaged neatly on your pillow
All of the boys of course go ‘OOOOOOOOoooOOOOOoo” every time something appears just to tease you
all through the second leg of training in England, he’s still staring at you but now it’s not just from across the training area, it’s also from across the pub, and the meeting rooms, and the mess hall
“If he keeps looking at me I’m gonna start yelling at him-”
“Maybe don’t do that while he’s at the range.”
everybody notices to the point of constantly teasing you about it
“y/n you may wanna ask Doc to check your back out from all of the knives Speirs is glaring into it-“
“MUCK-!”
You notice the stares are starting to happen less and less as it gets closer to D-Day
You honestly get kinda lonely without him hovering constantly, to the point where the rest of the guys start to notice you looking around for him
“Looking ‘round for your guardian angel y/n?”
“Toye I swear to god!”
The day that you were supposed to drop into Normandy comes and gets cancelled, and you’re too anxious to sleep and decide to slip out and go for a walk to clear your head
You’re wandering around the empty streets taking it all in because for all you know, this may be your last night on Earth and goddamn it if you can’t get hammered you’re gonna take a nice fucking walk
You’re 20 minutes into your walk along a few of the random streets and just enjoying a final night of calm, when you see a figure across the street from you smoking
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust and notice who it is (it’s Ron obv), and once you do you just pause because for the first time, you’re looking at him before he’s looking at you
When he looks up from lighting his cigarette his eyes go wide and he takes a small step back because you’re looking at him, ‘oh god why are they looking at me like that-’
You just give him a small smile and raise your hand in a wave
He just stares back at you until you turn and walk away, still smiling but just thinking ‘Oh god why did I wave at him? You looked like an idiot in front of Speirs nice going-’
D-Day arrives and you’re sitting with the rest of Easy getting your final mail call before you jump and you’re just pacing waiting and mildly freaking out
By this point, you’ve gotten so much comfort from being able to look around and find Ron to ground you that before you drop your head is on a constant swivel trying to find his eyes in the crowds of soldiers
You finally find them and when he looks at you he can see just how scared you actually are, (as much as you try to hide it)
Ron decided to make his way over to you because ‘they’re scared, I should go comfort them- that’s what you do when you like someone right?’
He walks right up to the small group you’re standing next to and they go completely silent as he does, but he just walks right past them up to you and you’re terrified because he’s never been this close to you before you’ve only seen him from across a room
You both just stand there staring at each other for a moment before Ron says “I’ll see you down there. Good luck.”
You’re just standing there trying to process just how close he is to you finally, and are trying to take in all his features and the sound of his voice because, ‘If I'm going to die the final thing I want to see is a good looking man.’
One of the boys has to cough really loudly to get you to snap back to reality
“Oh-! Yes- Yes Sir, good luck to you too…I hope to see you down there…under different circumstances than I usually see people…” You try and joke, half gesturing to the white medic band across your right bicep
You’re laughing a little awkwardly because ‘God he is good looking up close’ and he’s not laughing because of course he’s not, but he does have the absolute smallest quirk of the corner of his mouth, indicating that he heard your joke at all
One of the boys from the group just leans to another and goes “God that was bad, he’s gonna shoot them the second we get down there-”
You’re all loading up into the planes, and you stop on the last ring of the ladder to take a final look at allied Europe and you catch Speirs getting into his plane across the tarmac
He turns his head and for the second time he makes eye contact with you, rather than the other way around. He just nods and climbs in, hoping that he sees you down there, alive.
Once D-Day hits and rumors start about him killing that group of POWs everyone is like ‘fuck that’ and stays clear of him even more than usual
You hear the rumours and get a little anxious about seeing him again because you don’t really know anything about him, just that he’s handsome and a bit of a badass
For a while you only see him out of the corner of your eye, while you’re either waiting with Easy or while rushing by him trying to stop a soldier from bleeding out on a stretcher
Then the day comes when you have your second conversation and you start to realise that he’s just another man trying to get through this, and that maybe he’s not so bad
it happens when Tab gets stabbed and (as one of the medics for Easy) Joe Liebgott calls for you to come help Tab
your second real “conversation” is you turning to Speirs and demanding his compress bandages to stop the bleeding from his 3 wounds
he’s not used to being given orders, he’s a CO for God's sake, but when you do it he listens like they’re coming straight from the president himself
he’s always just admired from afar (except for your single previous conversation at the airfield), but he’s listening to you like ‘yes ma’am/sir whatever you say’ he is WHIPPED
you grab his hand and press it onto one of the wounds to compress it and his mind just stops for a second, because your hand is so warm and soft and the way you’re talking to Tab telling him that he’s “gonna be okay, don’t you worry Tab, I gotcha’” makes him feel something new
you leave with Tab to take him to the med station behind the line and Ron feels his heart tug at the sight of you walking away from him, (even if it is to help someone)
you come back from the aid station that you brought Tab to about 2 days later, and in those two days Ron is constantly hovering around Easy, whenever he gets a chance to see if you’re back yet
Easy is just like side eyeing him every time he comes over thinking ‘oh god he’s gonna kill us, he’s stalking his prey’
but once you get back and he sees that you’re okay, (just covered in a little more blood from helping at the aid station) he can breathe again and goes back to Dog Company like nothing happened
After a few days of being behind the lines you start to receive a few gifts
Definitely not as many as before you dropped but one every week or so
One day you get handed a letter from a runner and it has nothing it but a simple watch with a leather strap, no note or anything, but it’s convenient because your watch got broken during your last trench raid and have been in need of a new one
he has to suppress a smile each time he catches you checking the watch
Speirs gets a pretty nasty cut on his hand during a raid and instead of being concerned he’s decided it’s his chance to have another conversation with you, so instead of going to his own company's medics he makes a beeline straight for you.
you’re standing with a group of Easy men and he just comes walking right up to you being all like “y/n.” “o-oh! yes Sir- " "need your help.” and then he just wanders away knowing you’ll follow him
the boys you’re standing with just give you a look like you’re a dead man walking. George legit says “it’s been an honour serving with you” like you’re about to die (and honestly you’re so nervous you may just as well)
walks into the makeshift aid station where Gene is working on the shrapnel in Winters leg and Ron just leans against a table and hold his hand out to you, the blood is steadily flowing out of the cut and your eyes go wide and you start to freak out because “Sir this is a serious cut you should have gone to someone sooner! Where's your company medic? They could have helped you faster than coming to me!”
he just stands there staring at you with this blank expression but his eyes are so soft when he looks at you fussing over his cut.
(Gene and Winters are off to the side just giving each other a look, ever the observant ones)
you tell him his hand needs stitches but only a few. He's not been listening to you for the past 20 minutes while you stop the bleeding and disinfect his cut, he’s just staring at you and the way you look in the dirty window light.
he only snaps back when the stitching needle first threads through his skin and he takes a sharp breath in because he’s so caught off guard
your head snaps up to him when he hisses and you look so sad that you’ve hurt him
“Sorry Sir, I didn’t mean t’ hurt you, but we gotta get this closed up.”
your hand that is holding his steady moves slightly so you can run your thumb along his palm to sooth him
his whole arm is tingling when you touch him so gently, completely forgetting about you stitching his gash up until you pull your hand back like “alright Sir, you’re good to go. be sure to keep it clean, and in about a week your company medic can take those out for you.”
Just grunts and nods a thanks to you as he walks out the door.
Gene laughs a little and you turn to him all “what? what's it?” “nothin’…” “what do you mean ‘nothing’!” “just funny is all…you’re good to go Sir.” Gene just drops the conversation after that and leaves you spiralling as to what he meant by ‘nothin’’
when you make your way back to the group you were hanging out with, Malarkey just starts yelling “they’re alive!!! you made it, you stayed into the jaws of death and lived to tell the tale!!!”
You all laugh and the guys continue to tease you and you’re just standing there sputtering out excuses and blushing. Ron is just watching from afar through a cloud of smoke and his mouth tilts up just the slightest
You don’t have many conversations with him, but you both try and subtly go out of you ways to be near each other
Even the men start to notice that whenever Speirs has a moment of freetime he’s lingering around Easy or the aid station
You tend to walk around together a lot, (he’s always waiting outside the aid station for you after a long shift), it’s either you both walking in silence or you talking while he smokes
Rarely does he ever talk on your walks and it’s even rarer that it’s about his life outside of the war
The one or two times he slips up and tell you something about himself you feel so warm and hold that so close to your heart that you start a small list of facts about him in your notebook
Nothing huge just small things like, “like peonies”, “got a really bad haircut when he was 10 that he still hasn’t emotionally recovered from”
Ron wants to know everything about you and loves to hear you talk
He also starts a list of facts about you (that you both compare much later in the war)
(After a long while of knowing each other the lists have certain things crossed off like, “favourite colour is green the blue of the lake in his hometown”, and “their favourite song is ‘everybody loves my baby’ ‘sweethearts holiday”)
one day a book you were just talking to Webster about appears at the top of your pack, and sure it’s a little beaten and battered but you like it nonetheless, and all the guys start losing their minds because “WE’RE IN A WAR ZONE AND HE'S FINDING TIME TO GO BOOK SHOPPING FOR YOU???”
At this point you realise that you actually start to like-like him
You spend so much time together that the boys start poking fun at you and the officers start making some subtle remarks at Speirs (looking at you nix and Harry)
Everyone gets taken off the line and has a break pass in Aldbourne and it’s there that Speirs decided that now is the time to make some sort of move on you
Ron is picking you up from a long shift at the aid station with Gene and you look practically dead on your feet as you walk out, your hair is a mess, there’s blood on your clothes and under your nails and you’re pretty sure there may be vomit on your boots but to him you look like an angel with the light from the aid station coming from behind you giving you a halo
You walk up to him and give him a tired smile, already used to the routine of him walking you back to where you’re being billeted in, when he just blurts out
“Will you go dancing with me?"
You freeze, staring into his eyes (which are full of fear, although you’d never tell anyone that) and break out into a huge grin
“yeah…yeah I’d love to go dancing with you.”
Ron lets out the biggest sigh of relief you’ve ever heard and you gently slip your hand into his as he starts to walk
You just have the biggest grin on your face as he drops you off at your door and says “so, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night?”, “I’ll be waiting.”
This man is at your door 10 minutes early just pacing trying to work up the nerve to knock on your door, and you’re just watching him pace giggling to yourself because this man will jump out of a plane and kill Germans and show no fear, but he gets scared picking someone up for a dance
He finally knocks 2 minutes before he said he would be there and you rush to the door, pulling it open and freezing
Because good god he is in his dress uniform, clean shaven, hair neatly done and he is beautiful
You both stand there looking each other up and down for a few moments, taking the other in, since you’ve never seen each other cleaned up in your dress uniforms before
“Hi-” “You look-”
He takes (steals) one of the jeeps from the base to take you out to a small dance hall that’s just far enough out of the way that none of the regular enlisted men can get to it without a vehicle (perks of being a scary officer), so it’s you, a very small handful of other officers and the locals
This boy can DANCE
I fully believe that he would dance with his sisters and mother and grandmother when he was younger (in the way that you force your youngers to play games with you when you’re kids)
He’s also strong (HIS ARMS IN HIS DRESS UNIFORM ARE MMMMM-) so he can swing and spin you around like nobody’ business
This boy is smiling and laughing like there’s not a single thing wrong in the world, because when you’re in his arms that’s how everything feels
You both drink quite a bit and get rather giggly
You spend that last half of your night tucked together at the back of the hall in a booth, nursing lukewarm beers with your legs thrown over his and just whispering and giggling with each other
He is running his fingers up and down your leg!!!! He’s not doing it as any form of proposition, he’s doing it because he genuinely loves to just touch you and finds so much comfort in it
You’re both just talking and telling each other about yourselves and what your lives are like/what you want them to be after the war is over, (“If I knew all it took to get to know you was a few drinks, I would have stolen Nix’ secret stash.”)
You’re just constantly leaning closer and closer to each other throughout the night, to the point that your lips are basically brushing every time you speak
At the end of the night he drops you off at your house (he spins and waltzes you up to your door. Yes he’s tipsy.), and you lean in and give him a kiss, just a quick peck before rushing out a “Good night, I had a wonderful time!” and running through the door
You peek out the window to see him leave but he’s just standing there for a second, in a slightly tipsy daze because, you just kissed him, and he’s pretty sure his heart stopped
The next morning you wake up with a mild hangover and memories of an incredible night
You somehow manage to pull yourself out of bed, strip off the last of your dress uniform from last night and get yourself down to the mess hall in your OD’s
The second you have your food and walk over to Easy the boys lose their minds and are cheering and giving you pats on the back
You’re so confused because “what’s all this for? The war end while I was asleep?”
“Heard you had a little date last night with a certain officer-?”
Your head snaps over to Gene because he was the only other one at the aid station when Ron asked you out
“GENE-!” who looks smug as fuck as you start throwing wadded up napkins at him
Ron is watching from the officers table, smirking at how flushed you become from all the teasing
Nixon just leans over and goes, “You chose a good one Sparky. Those boys might be scared of you, but if you break their heart, they’ll break your fucking neck.”
I don’t think that you put a label on what you are, at least not for a long while since you’re both so scared of losing the other and in war nothing is guaranteed
You both just know that if you need someone to talk to or just are in need of some comfort you go to each other
You start to seek each other out unconsciously, eyes immediately searching for each other in every room and in every group after every mission
If someone is looking for one of you they know to look for the other because you’re never far behind each other
There’s a joke going around within Easy that you can’t ‘sleep without your teddy bear’ because you can’t sleep very well without Speirs
Sleeping cuddled up with Speirs in a pile of hay, leaves you better rested than sleeping alone on a real bed
You never tell each other you love one another until you go on leave in Paris, up until then you just say, “Come back to me.” “I will. Promise."
And the second you get back from anywhere you make a b-line for each other and say, “You came back to me.” “I promised, didn’t I?”
(You tell him that you love him first though. He doesn’t even hesitate to say it back.)
I don’t think that y’all kiss a lot just because Speirs is a very reserved person with a reputation to keep up
He does love to drag you behind buildings, away from prying eyes to kiss you or make out with you (he LOVES to make out with you against a wall where you can both just keep pushing against each other- we’ll get to this later, this man makes me have many thoughts)
You and Ron are sitting at the back of the room, just holding hands and playing with each others fingers, half watching the movie when some officer comes bursting through the doors turning on all the lights, shutting off the movie and yelling about moving back out
Ron and you look at each other because, “I didn’t buy a scarf in Paris."
BASTOGNE
At first you two are excited because you can have secret foxhole rendezvous, within a week you’re both like, ‘I am freezing and emotionally distraught, do not touch me’
The only person who bring you any comfort when you can’t be near Ron is Gene, but nobody wants to lose both their medics in one blast so you’re either in a foxhole by yourself or a little bit off the front and sitting with Joe Liebgott and/or George Luz
Everytime Ron comes by the foxhole the guys are still scared of him so they tend to stay silent while the two of you talk or they just completely dip and leave the two of you alone
(they realise how little time the two of you get to spend together now that you’re both: a) on the front line again, and b)meant to be on full alert to watch for any stragglers trying to force their way through)
The guys are still weary that you’re with Ron (in what sorta way you’re together the guys still aren’t 100% sure still), but I think that seeing the way he treats you in Bastogne changes that
He’s constantly making rounds, and “mysteriously” ending up at your foxhole
(he blames it on how sparse the line is but everybody knows that’s a lie because that man knows where everything is at all times)
You both don’t talk a lot during Bastogne, finding more comfort in physical closeness and sharing what little warmth you both have with each other
You’re both freezing but somehow Ron never seems to shiver, like he can just will his body not to, whereas you’re just shaking like a leaf as he hold you
On Christmas you’re huddled in your foxhole with Joe and George, and Winters comes crunching through the snow towards you
Being the nicest man ever he just crouches down and tell you
“Go.”
“‘Scuse me Sir?”
“Go spend Christmas with Sparky.”
You’re out of the foxhole the second he says ‘Christmas’ with a quick “Thank you Sir-really thank you!” over your shoulder as you’re moving as fast as your frozen legs can carry you
Plopping into his foxhole with your blanket and he’s startled for a second before smiling at you and in just the absolute softest voice
“Hey sweetheart, Merry Christmas.” with the sweetest smile that warms you from the inside out
He got (stole) a gift for you. It’s a non-army-issued scarf that’s your favourite colour.
You gave him a photo of the two of you that you’ve been secretly holding onto since you got them developed
It’s a photo of the two of you getting ready to have the actual photo of the two of you in your dress uniforms taken, but it's just him looking down at you as you fix his tie
He won’t admit it but he tears up a little when he sees it, because you’ve been getting the shit bombed out of you every day, you’re freezing to death, you don’t have enough of anything and everybody is so tired, but this photo is so domestic and sweet, and it reminds him of when you were anywhere but here and he just loves you so much he can’t fucking stand it
New years eve comes around and you’re in your shared foxhole with Liebgott and about 2 minutes before midnight Ron comes to do “his rounds” and “make sure everybody’s dug in properly”
(at this point everybody knows that if Ron is seen around Easy he’ll say it’s to check on everybody, but they all know he just wants to see you and make sure you’re okay)
He kneels down next to you and Joe nudges you awake
You startle upright and when you realise nobody is hurt you look and see Ron next to where you were sleeping
“Ron!” you’re so sleepy but so excited to see him for the first time since Christmas day, that his heart just about bursts
Just just motions you to follow him which you happily do, he’s a few paces ahead of you and you job a little to catch up to him and slip your freezing fingers into his fingerless glove covered ones
He leads you a little ways away from the other foxholes and behind a few trees (not so far that you couldn’t reach one if you started getting bombed again but here they won’t hear whatever you both say)
“What’s up Ronnie?”
He just holds a finger up for you to wait, after about 20 seconds of silence he whispers
“3…2…1” and gently cradles your face and kisses you so sweetly that you can’t help but sigh into it
It honestly turns into a light makeout before you pull back from him
“Wha-...what was that for? Not that I’m complaining but-”
“Happy new year sweetheart.”
You just beam at him because you may not have remembered but he did (specifically so that he could have an excuse to celebrate and make out with you)
“Happy new year honey.”
The day to take Foy comes finally and you’re sent out onto the field with the boys
You and Gene are not too far away from each other just incase the other needs any assistance
Ron is having the words day of his life, because he’s just stood up on that hill watching the battle take place, and he can’t do anything to help you
You’re hiding behind that building with Lipton when you hear someone calling for a medic on the other side of the street
Ron just got the order to take over and he’s about to start running when he sees you go down
you stuck your head around the corner to get a better look at who was yelling and you get *ping!*’d by a bullet, right off the side of your helmet, throwing you back onto the snow
Ron takes of running through the field because ‘oh god they’ve been hit’ and he needs to get this situation under control because god knows Dike isn’t going to
he takes over for Dike and starts giving out orders before running to “talk to carwood” (check if you’re alive)
he sees you sitting up against the brick wall partially covered by Randleman’s arm comforting the best he can in this situation you as you shake -because, sure you may have been through various war zones in the past year and a bit, but everybody knows that you don’t kill medics- and he can finally breathe a sigh of relief as he realises you’re not hurt just extremely shaken at the close call
When Carwood tells him they need to link up with I company he doesn’t hesitate to start running again, you lean forward trying to grab at his jacket yelling for him to come back
he ignores you, knowing that if he looked back at your terrified face he wouldn’t be able to move forward
Carwood leans over to tell you that he’s made it to I company, but you’re just sitting there shaking because “oh god he’s gonna die, he’s gonna fucking die- Lip why would you tell him that? You know how he is!”
When Lip peaks his head back around the building he sees Ron running back to you and decided against telling you because he knows that’ll just make you worse
the second Ron makes it back to you, you're pounding against his chest with closed fists and yelling at him through tears that he’s “-an asshole! what the fuck were you thinking?! what if you got hit- i can’t fucking stand you!”
Ron isn’t hurt because he knew that was going to terrify you but he had to do it
He’s not even paying attention to you tbh, he’s talking to Lip because he needs to get you safe first, reunions are for after the battle is done
Once the battle is officially over you’re all sitting about, most of the men sitting on the tank in the centre of town, singing and being filmed by the camera men.
you’re standing partially off to the side next to George, practically ignoring Ron -who is lingering nearby talking to Winters- giving you glances every few seconds
He knows you have every right to be frustrated and angry with him because he put his life at risk multiple times without thinking of the consequences other than he ‘needs to end this gotta make sure you’re safe’, but that doesn’t mean that it hurts any less
suddenly a shot rings out from the attic of one of the destroyed houses and a bullet whizzes right by you, everybody scatters, George grabs you and pull you behind the building with Shifty
you’re completely frozen in George’s grip, terrified that you almost got shot again
And “Jesus Christ, don’t they know you’re not supposed to shoot medics, they’ve got a fucking armband for a reason” from George behind you who has an iron grip on your arms
waiting a few moments after Shifty took the shot people nervously start walking back onto the street, but Ron makes a beeline for where George is still gripping onto you (explaining that he “can’t lose another friend he just can’t”)
Ron just grabs you and pulls you into him, you tuck your head right between his shoulder and jaw, your cold nose against his neck causing him to shiver
he just holds you and you hold him
cut to: night in the church and you’re finally warm and able to shed some layers since you’re no longer freezing to death
Ron walks up to you, no jacket on just his sweater with the army-issued suspenders hanging around his waist (‘he looks like such husband material- now is not the time you’re supposed to be mad at him!!!’)
“Can I speak to you…in private…” he leads you through the church to one of the back rooms and closes the door so you can speak freely
You both just stand there staring at each other, both being too stubborn to apologise first
You’re just staring at him in the candlelight for a moment, taking in the way the light flickers off his features and his eyes and you just burst into tears, bringing your hands up to over your face
Ron is so startled it takes a moment for his brain to reboot and realise ‘holy shit they’re crying’ and scoop you into his arms
He rubs the back of your head and you just weep into his chest, crying out run-on sentences like “I’m sorry i was hitting you I was so mad at you- why the fuck would you do that-” as he tries to comfort you between your sobs, “I’m sorry-” “What if you had gotten hit, I couldn’t have gotten to you, I would have just had to watch-” “I’m so sorry” “I don’t hate you I promise, I’m sorry I was so mad-”
Ron just stands there rubbing over your head and back, rocking you in his arms as he lets you cry about everything that’s happened
Once you settle down a little bit so now you’re just hiccupping and the last few tears falling down your cheeks Ron just whispers into the crown of your head “I thought I lost you…”
You pull back a little and tilt your head up to look at him “...what do you mean? Just because you scared the shit outta me doesn’t mean I’m gonna leav-”
“No when you- I saw you get hi-” He closes his eyes to try and calm himself, just imagining what had happened to you and what he thought happened to you brings him to tears, “I saw you fall and lay there and I thought I just watched the love of my life die in front of me-”
“Ron-Ron please look at me…” He has to will his eyes open, ‘I’m here, I’m okay I promise. A little scared, a little dinged up, but I’m safe, and you’re safe- and we’re okay.” you both just lean back into each other and hold each other for a few minutes, both trying to calm yourselves and reassuring each other that you’re okay
Gentle “I thought I lost you” kisses !!!!!!
About an hour after, you and Speirs disappear you come back out to the main room, the choir is still singing and a few of the boys look over, ready to poke fun at you and lighten the mood, but the second they see your face they back out because, you may not let on but you’re just as affected by everything as everyone else is, and you watching the man you’re in love with risk his life was finally your breaking point
You fall asleep in that church cuddled up on one of the pews towards one of the side windows, Ron sitting sideways on the pew with his legs laid out, you’re laying cuddled into him with your back against his chest and holding his arms wrapped around you
You both just whispering to each other how much you love one another between sleepy kisses as you fall asleep
HAGENEAU
Hageneau isn’t much better emotionally, everybody is still cold and miserable, and people keep dying even though you’re covered by houses and roofs
The only saving grace is the single warm shower with no soap, the clean uniform and the uncomfortable squeaky mattresses
Speaking of the showers, the officers get their own shower area away from the other men, that are broken into small cubicles for a bit more privacy
Ron sneaks you into the officers shower so you can have some time for just yourself, instead though you ask Ron to stay with you
He's hesitant because you never get any time to just be alone, constantly surrounded by other soldiers or on occasion being shuttled to the aid station as an extra set of hands
But he takes one look at you, covered in blood and dirt, barely able to keep your eyes open, cold and so so upset, and he folds like a lawn chair, nodding and following you to one of the stalls
When you shower together this time nothing about it is sexual, it’s the complete opposite of your time in Paris, nobody is laughing and making soapy mohawks or having really good shower sex. You’re just standing near each other, sometimes not even touching, just enjoying the warm water and the feeling of weeks of dirt and blood running down the drain
You both stand there a few times, looking at each other and the others body, taking in all the changes that your body has gone through since before Bastogne
You spend some time just running your hands over the others' new scars, some are fresher and some have faded with time. There’s a few scars that were fresh when you were on leave and when you both run your fingers over them for a moment you can imagine you’re back there safe and haven’t yet gone through the hell-on-earth that is that forest
Then the ground rattles with artillery and you decide that’s enough time wishing you were somewhere else.
Ron claims a room in the least destroyed house he can find and is like “I found a room for us :)” and something about the way he says “us” makes you feel warmer than the sun and it lifts your mood so much for such a little thing
The night of the prisoner snatch is stressful and you’re not even going across the river
You’re sat on the edge of the allies bank right where the boats will land, just incase anybody is hurt
You spend the entire time after they launched crouched against the cold dirt hoping that your friends make it out okay
Of course nothing goes right and it’s practically a fist fight as the boat sails across the water
You’re right there the second they land and jump into action
The boys carry Eugene Jackson towards the basement where the rest of the men had been waiting, struggling as he writhed and cried from the pain, limbs flying out every which way, and eventually smacking you right in the face
Your eyes water as Eugene's fist collides with your cheek, sending you stumbling back into the wall
There’s yelling and chaos and you holler for someone to “go grab Doc Roe!”
By the time Gene gets to you your fresh uniform has blood smeared on it from trying to cradle Eugene's face to keep him still and your hands are wet with the red liquid
Gene gestures for you to move and allow him to take over which you do willingly, now turning to Babe to try and distract him from the horrible screaming and crying Eugene is letting out
Ron is sitting up on the bed in the he had commandeered for you both when you come shuffling into the room blood soaking your hands and smeared on your fresh uniform
He doesn’t look up from the files he was given, just greeting you with a, “Hey sweetheart, how’d it go?”
You don’t respond, just walking silently into the bathroom attached to the room turning on the tap and scrubbing the blood off your hands
“Baby?”
You’re just scrubbing, and scrubbing and scrubbing and it just ‘won’t come off’ and ‘jesus christ why won’t it come off?’
You’re not even scrubbing anymore you’re just scratching at your hands, your wrists, your arms, and you just want it off “off, off, get it off”
And suddenly rough hands gently grab your wrists and there's a voice speaking to you and telling you that, “it’s okay, we’ll get it off, we’ll get it off…take a deep breath and we’ll get it off”
You’re not even crying you’ve just gone numb and have a thousand yard stare over Ron’ shoulder as he gently washes your hands in his own, he’s watching the red water turn to pink and finally to clear
Ron takes his time, making sure to clean every finger and under every nail until your hands are the cleanest they’ve been since before Bastogne
Ron turns off the tap and just looks at you with the saddest eyes, you don’t even realise he’s finished until he asks you “are you okay?” he knows the answer but knows that’s the only way to get you to tell him what happened
“Eugene died…” his eyes go wide, “Jackson- Eugene Jackson…” his face goes slightly more lax, realising that your fellow medic hadn’t been killed “he was twenty-three…he kept crying he was in so much pain, his face- he was-”
Ron is watching you concerned and gets scared as you just stop talking, like someone suddenly turned off a radio
“You don’t have to talk y/n…can I- can I touch you?” He’s never seen you this small before, you’re like a wounded animal, your eyes are dead and looking straight through him
Not even looking at him you just nod silently. Ron nods back and scoops you into his arms, carrying you back into the main room, gently placing you on the bed
You’re both silent as he unlaces and takes off your boots, and then your dirty jacket and (he asks of course), your pants and shirt too
he’s already making a plan to get you a new uniform before you wake up
he grabs his sweater he was wearing that night in the church and pulls it over you, it covers you well enough since it’s a size too big
You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and Ron gets up for a moment and walks over to his pack and takes out a small bottle and a rag, he tips just a few drops of the liquid onto it and comes back to you, so softly just brushing it over your hands to get rid of the smell of copper blood
Once he’s done you raise your hands to your nose and it just smells like Ron
It takes you a moment because you haven’t smelled it since Paris but it’s the cologne he bought while you were both there, and it just takes you back to the time you spent together, when everything was okay and it felt like you weren’t two soldiers on leave but just two people in love spending time together
you realise that he wiped just enough of the cologne on your hands that you can’t smell the copper anymore and you can just smell him
you just lay down and curl up on the bed as Speirs gets his outer layers and boots off before climbing in behind you and pulling into him, your back to his chest
he just holds you the whole night, letting you cry, or mumble about how “none of this is fair”, and he talks about what you’re going to do together after all this is over, talking to you sleep
“I’ll get you a house with a big old porch that wraps around the entire house. We can drink tea and watch the sun go down.”
(had to throw in a Notebook quote for emotional damage)
GERMANY
When news comes that you’ll be moving in to occupy Germany you can’t tell whether to be excited or terrified because taking Germany means the end of the war, but it also means a final stand on the Germans part
Now that Ron is Easy’ CO that means that you can travel in the same vehicle
So you’re both sitting in the backbed of a truck with some other Easy men when you see something bright flash over your hand
You hold up your hand and see it flash again
Looking over your shoulder you see from behind the thick layer of trees, the sun is shining for the first time in nearly 2 months
You shoot up from your seat, turning to look out the side of the uncovered truck and Ron shoots out to grab your waist to stop you from tumbling over
“Woah-! What are you doing- What is it?”
“The sun!”
He looks up at you like you’re crazy
“The sun is out! And it’s warm!”
You guys break through the trees and the sun just lights you up, and for the time in months the sun is out, and its yellow and it’s warming you from the outside in
Ron is just holding you by the waist and looking up at you like you’re crazy but suddenly the yellow light from the sun is shining on your face, and the wind is blowing through your hair and you are beaming looking at the sun shining overhead
You get so excited at the warmth you’re finally getting and start to stip off your scarf, fingerless gloves, hat and thicker jacket
Joe playfully wolf whistles and the sound of it snaps Ron out of the trance you had unknowingly put him in with a, “Shut it Liebgott!”
Compared to the last town you stayed in Landsberg seems like a dream
Warm homes, real beds, actual fresh food and warm weather
But then you find the camp
And everything seems just hopeless
You all had known the Germans were bad, there’s a reason you’re fighting a war against them
But none of you had really realised just how bad it really was
As you walk through the open gates people are gently grasping at your jacket, your hair, your hands
Looking for some sort of comfort and thanking you
You try and comfort them back, saying words of relief in the broken German Joe had been teaching you back in the foxhole in Bastogne
As a medic you and Gene are asked to stay behind to give any attention to anyone you possibly can
Ron has to go back to the battalion HQ to give his report of what they found, and leaving you here, watching you take care of the people who have been through such horrible acts as they close the gates behind him, Nixon, Winters and Welsch, locking you in there is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do
You don’t come home until late that night, reeking of death and alcohol
You and Ron don’t say anything to each other, you just sit on a couch in the house the officers were sharing, and you pull out the random bottle Lewis gave you and just pass it back and forth in silence the whole night, knowing that you had to get up and go back there again in the morning
Leaving the people in the camp behind was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do, forming a relationship of trust with the people in there and suddenly having to up and leave them after a week because of some higher-ups orders was one of the most frustrating experiences you’ve ever had
But when Ron told you you’re leaving to Berchtesgaden it felt like the beginning of the end
The drive up through the mountains is one of the most beautiful views you’ve ever seen
“It’s beautiful here. We should come back again one day.”
“You mean like when we’re not getting shot at?”
“Of course I mean when we’re not getting shot at Ron.”
Walking through the small town of completely abandoned high ranking Nazi homes was so eerie and had everyone on guard, until the entire place was swept and cleared the men started drinking like the war was over
(which at this point is basically was)
Ron is looting like it’s his job. He comes back to the room in the house the officers taken over with armfulls of expensive items everytime he comes back from somewhere
You spend most of your time hanging out with the other men of Easy, exploring the area, swimming and looting as well
You and Ron spend one night together where you’re just laying in the large bed in the officers house, with all the windows open and are just talking about what’s going to happen next
“War in Europe’s is over…do you have enough points to go home?”
“No…even if I did you’re not going to the Pacific without me Sparky.”
It’s a difficult conversation to have because you’ve both just barely made it through the war in Europe together and now you’re going to be shipped off to the Pacific where everything is 10x worse, which means it’s 10x more likely that one of you isn’t making it out of there alive
Ron is in his dress uniform watching you play baseball with everyone, just taking in the moment
The second that Dick says that the war is over your eyes snap to each other and you run and jump into his arms
He lifts you up and gives you the biggest kiss, (which has the boys cheering even louder)
You both get HAMMERED that night with everyone (except for Dick who is present but is not drinking lol)
There’s a chugging competition between everyone, (Lewis is a man who sips his drinks so he does not do well, I think that Bill wins, then Joe Toye and Ron is maybe 3d)
By the time 2 am rolls around everyone is blissfully drunk, and you and Ron have migrated out to the balcony and are just slow dancing together silently
since the war has been officially declared over you spend the rest of your time in Germany relaxing, swimming and just having fun and being kids with everyone basically, until you’re given a way to get back to the states
POST WAR
You go back to your families for about 2 months before you realise that you can’t live without each other and yall buy a house
it’s a fixer upper in a nice neighbourhood and it becomes your own project
you buy a camera to document the process of you renovating the house until it becomes your dream home
it takes about 8 months for it to be finished, and after Ron claims the garden as his fixer upper project and he makes it beautiful
I don’t Ron actually proposes I think he just looks up at you one day, the sun shining through the living room window, the radio playing quietly and you just look so ethereal and content, it reminds him of when he asked you to go dancing with him that he just can't help but say
“Will you marry me?”
You’re already smiling before you even look at him, taking your time to put your bookmark in before looking at him with a smile to rival the sun and just say
“Yes. I think I will.”
You guys are married within a year of him asking
I think you would have a small wedding, right in that perfect time where spring turns to summer and it’s not too hot but everything in Ron’s beautiful garden is blooming
You have the ceremony outside of a historical home under a huge willow tree
It’s just you both, your immediate families and Easy, everyone is dressed in their dress uniforms and I think Ron would be too (unless you asked him to wear a proper suit in which case he absolutely would)
Lipton is Ron’s best man, with Lewis being a part of his groomsmen
Dick walks you down the aisle (he is crying the whole way) and hands you off to Ron
The reception is in the backyard of the home, there's a beautiful ceremony setup (i'm legit picturing Bilbo baggins 111th birthday party energy)
The list of people had to be approved before the wedding because everybody wanted to make a speech
The list goes: You and Ron, one of each of your parents, Dick, Eugene, Lewis, Malarkey
You and Ron have a perfect first dance and the second it’s over you’re being spun around the floor by every soldier in Easy, all saying things like “you never danced with us at any of the pubs so we’re making up for lost time!”
He love to garden after the war
The officers come over about every 2 months to catch up and have dinner, and every single time one of them gets roped into hearing about how “I asked for white hydrangeas and do you know what Glenda at the store gave me? Pink hyacinth! Can you believe her? Everybody knows that you can’t put pink hyacinth next to pink peonies, they’d clash!”
“Dick, I’d go save your husband over there before he buries mine in his precious garden.”
I don’t think you have/adopt kids right away, instead you adopt a dog from a shelter that you treat like your kid
I do think Ron would like to be a dad one day though
post war i think he either just had a calm day job like down at a shop or something or he becomes a teacher (elementary school maybe like grade 6? and all the kids love him)
i don’t think he talks a lot about the war once its over, only the happy parts at least
how he sleeps head cannons:
he likes cuddling you in any way possible but he prefers either your back to his front or his head on your chest with his body half sprawled on top of yours
DEATH GRIP ON YOU, you have to pry his arms off you if you need to get up in the night
but he does get nightmares a lot, not ones where he’s kicking and screaming, but he starts to shift and mumble
you usually wake him up by just holding him and quietly talking to him to wake him
he wakes with a start and a jolt and his breathing is rapid and uneven and it takes him a few minutes to remember he’s home and he’s safe
you both just lay there and he silently cries for a few minutes and you comfort him
i think after a night like that he’s up for the rest of the night, he just putters around or sits up and thinks, he always tells you to go back to bed though
you always stay up with him, saying that “I was awake anyways, couldn’t sleep.” through big yawns laying against his side on the couch or big window seat
there was one night a few months after the war ended and everything was still a little too fresh, and Ron is mumbling and shifting
you wake up because he starts to throw his arms around
you lean over to try and wake him up because he’s getting louder and starting to kick his legs
Then his arms start to flail
you ‘re getting scared because he just won’t wake up so you grab him by his shoulders and shake him, begging for him to open his eyes
His eyes shoot open as he’s frantic and lost and you realise that he's not here with you
His hands come up and he grabs your arms so tight you’re pretty sure they’ll bruise and he shoves you off of him, you go tumbling off the bed onto the floor, smacking your head
You lay there dazed for a moment dazed, your head aching
Ron has pushed himself up against the headboard, trying to calm his breathing and come back down from whatever memory he had been trapped in
You both just sit/lie still for a minute, the only sound being your heavy breathing, until Ron whispers
“Y/n?”
And god he just sounds so small, and broken and scared
You haven’t heard him this scared since Bastogne when he thought you died, and it scares you just how defeated he sounds
You push yourself off the floor and crawl on the bed, flicking on the small bedside lamp and illuminating the room just enough that you can see just how messy he looks
His eyes are wet and his hair is a mess, his chest is heaving with shuddering breaths
You don’t touch him, just reach your hand out and place it between you two, giving him the option to take it or not
“Yeah Ron, I’m here…don’t worry, I’m here, you’re safe in our home.”
He gently reaches out and tangles your fingers together, slowly shifting closer to you, seeking some comfort but not wanting to touch you, his body still on high alert from his dream
“Wh-what were you doing on the floor? Did- did I-”
“Ron no-”
“Oh god- I’m so sorry I- I didn’t mean to- you know I would never-” He starts to cry. No not cry, he starts to heave and sob, appalled that he could hurt you in any way
He pushes himself back from you and curls up against the headboard
You crawl right up next to him and wrap him in your arms, running a hand through his hair and up and down his back as you whisper to him
“I know Ron- I know baby. You would never hurt me. You didn’t know, you weren’t here with me, you were somewhere else.”
It never happens again this badly, but there are still nights where the one of you has to hold the other when they wake up scared, confused and just lost
The first Easy Company reunion comes around and when you show up everybody is like “Who is this man and what have you done with Captain Speirs?” because this man is giving you regular kisses and ones on the cheek, he’s holding your hand and has his palm on the small of your back, you’re holding hands and basically just being a normal couple, but the boys cannot function because “Where is our scary Captain Speirs, and what did you do with him??”
Is that a SMILE???? The boys have no idea how you’ve done this but you have somehow caused their rough and tumble CO to become so soft and loving they can barely look at the two of you
At one point everyone is dancing and he pulls you out onto the floor and I fully believe that Malarkey passes out because he’s so shocked
this boy can DANCE i’m telling you. he love to slow dance with you
He is pulling out all the moves because he's finally around his friends in a space where they’re not getting shot at constantly and he can finally let go and be himself
The boys are all whooping and hollering because you both look so carefree and in love and they’re so happy for you
when you finally have time to relax you both spend a lot of time reading with your legs thrown over his lap and his hand is just gently rubbing your calf and ankle, it’s a great reminder that you’re both here together and everything is calm and safe now
Only after the war does he actually loosen up in public, and oh boy you better be ready because the second he starts showing how much he loves you in public he refuses to stop
I’m talking: hand holding every second you’re outside because “I don’t want you to get lost…and your hands are soft”, kisses for everything whether it’s kisses as payment for getting something off a shelf for you or kisses just because you look so good that he just can’t help himself
shows you off at every chance he gets: he goes down to the shop (he’s befriended every old lady who works the register) and when he’s at checkout the lady goes “and who’ve you got with you today Ronald?” and he’s so excited and is all like, “this is y/n, my partner!”
This man reads poetry!!!! And he loves to recite it to you while you’re both cooking, or laying in bed late at night while you play with his fingers, and he loves to read it to you while you’re sitting in your backyard with his head in your lap and your fingers combing through his hair gently
looks at you with his warm gaze so full of love, almost always when you turn to look at him and see him just watching you with his warm brown eyes and you just get so shy and flustered you have to look away (he loves when you get like that he thinks it’s so fucking cute)
EXTRAS
flirts with you all the time!!! (even after you’re married. he just loves to make you swoon)
one may think that Ron would get in to fights when someone disrespects you but you alway tell him “they’re not worth it Ron don’t bother honey.”
but YOU on the other hand, if someone says something about Ron you jump their ass
that actually happened back when everyone was at some small pub one night and you’re walking back to the table with all the boys at it and some guy tries to harass you so Ron steps in with one of those ‘You better back the fuck off my partner’ looks and you start back to your seat when the guy pipes up about Ron and you just swing around and DECK him. All that time training came in handy as you started to beat his ass. All the boys are cheering you on (Bill will say that he’s never been prouder of you, and both Joes and Tab were cheering like they had money on you)
it takes Ron, Winters and a tipsy Nixon to pull you off the poor guy before you kill him
Ron pulls you out of the bar to cool of but you just keep your hands locked and keep walking until you get back to your room and have some fantastic rage induced sex (not mad at each other, just riled up and showing one another how much you love and care for each other)
has a really deep morning voice
and the best bed head, like he makes it look so good and like such boyfriend/husband materal
loves to stare at you when you get happy/excited, it makes him happy!
the second he realises that he can loot he anonymously leaves you gifts that he thinks you’d enjoy
it starts off simple with items like candies and treats
then it becomes more thoughtful like a nice chain or a simple ring band that won’t get in the way of your work as a medic
he absolutely loves seeing you wear or read the gifts he’s left for you, it’s like he’s there protecting you and claiming you as his but from afar, when you play with the ring on your finger when your nervous out bored during briefings it makes him so happy
is a surprisingly good singer?? doesn’t do it very often and NEVER around people (epically the men) but when it’s just you two with a moment alone he loves to sing to you while swaying gently with one hand on your waist and one holding yours
Loves to sing ‘I’ll be seeing you’ by Billie Holiday
everytime he comes back from looting a house he goes “give me your hand.” and pulls out a handful of different sizes, cuts and colours of rings, gently placing each one on your finger, noting each time you say that you like an aspect of it
“I like the cut of the stone in this one, I'm just not sure of the colour though.”
Ron: *quickly grabs his notebook and scribbles something down in it before pocketing the ring*
LOVES when you play with his dog tags (especially when you are laying together post-sex), and loves the way your dog tags look when you’re bouncing on him, and they’re jingling and catching the light perfectly
i think his love languages are;
giving: gift giving and acts of service, quality time
receiving: quality time, words of affirmation and physical touch
speaking of physical touch:
he is NOT big on PDA, he prefers to keep any intimate moments like kissing just between the two of you (or occasionally quick pecks around the other officers, that causes you to blush so much he has to give you a second one. Even Dick jokes at him, “Jesus Sparky, please keep it in your pants-” “Dick I swear to God-!”)
but when you are in public is more like a gentle hand on the small of your back, brushing hair out of his face and letting your fingers linger there for a little longer than necessary, linking your pinkies together when you’re standing close enough
he also LOVES when you grab the back of his jacket/shirt or his belt loop to not get lost in a crowd, it makes him feel like you trust him
when y’all are in PRIVATE he LOVES making out
slow and gentle, just you and him, rubbing your hands along his stubble, pulling back for a moment to giggle and tell him how ticklish it is, (he promises to shave it, you tell him your like to feel it somewhere else before he does)
loves making out with you ANYWHERE but especially his office, like pushing you up onto his desk where his body fits perfectly between your legs, he can trap you between his arms and hold your hands down onto the wooden desk, loves the sense of privacy it gives you both
more than once you’ve been interrupted and you’ve had to fake bringing him some papers he needed
“Speirs- Sergeant L/N! Sorry for interrupting, I didn’t realise you had a… guest.”
“It’s alright Sir, they were just dropping off some paperwork.” Winters is SO EMBARRASSED, but not nearly as much as you are when Nixon points out
“You might wanna fix your hair before you go anywhere else Sergeant.” with a shit eating grin on his face.
your face goes red before you look at Ron guilty, he just smirks back at you causing you to blush an even deeper shade of red.
carries around pictures of you in his OD jacket pocket!!!!! they’re in a tin so they don’t get ruined, he loves to just flip through them and stare when you are a part from each other
there’s a few photos of the two of you when you finally had weekend passes and you went to Paris. There's one of you and him both in your uniforms standing together, his arms wrapped around you as you're mid laugh and he’s looking down at you with eyes like you hung the moon.
You’ve got one really good one you put on your bedside table when you get back, it’s Ron in regular clothes smiling directly into the camera blowing smoke out of his mouth, it’s very domestic and handsome. The first time he sees it he’s all “oh come on you wanna keep that one? It’s so bad-" "I think you look beautiful and handsome, like a leading man.” He sees how you stare at that photo and decides ‘maybe it’s not so bad after all’
Another is of you both in regular civilian clothes, it’s a strip of photo booth pictures, that get progressively more steamy. The first one is just you two looking at each other, you’re sitting on his lap and cradling his face. the second one is you both kissing, it’s sweet (and later he puts that one in his wallet when you get home). Third photo is, you both, still kissing but now your hands are gripping his shirt and his hands are all in your hair (that way that Tab runs his hands through that girl's hair in Holland, you know the gif). the final one in the strip is of him staining at you with loving eyes, having just pulled back from a kiss- hands still in your hair- but you’re staring directly into the camera with this look on your face that he loves seeing, you’re rapidly unbuttoning your shirt
nsfw:
in that tin of photos there are more than a few risqué and sexual ones. You rented a camera to take photos while in Paris and when you finally get the developed images sent to you at the front you and Ron open them and the first photo is of you just sitting against the headboard of the hotel room bed, hugging a pillow against your naked body with the sheets bunched up around your feet, your hair is a controlled beautiful mess and you’re staring directly into the camera with half lidded eyes, (obviously just having settled down enough the push yourself upright). Ron’s breath hitches and he grabs it, immediately placing it in the tin with other photos of you both.
photos of you both mid sex
you have one that you took while riding him, he’s laying down with his head thrown back and his mouth partially open and his eyes are closed and he just looks wrecked. you pocket that one just as quickly as he pocketed yours.
he has one of you doing it in front of a mirror, he’s behind you taking the photos and your head is thrown back and your back is arched. the photo is slightly blurred because of the movement while he was taking it but he love it
the first time you had sex together was when you were back in civilization for a US Open show and we’re billeted on the same block.
he is so gentle that first time and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he slides into you.
“oh fuuuuuck, god-“ he hisses through his teeth to keep himself quiet
says that he’s quiet in bed but occasionally after a long day (or if he’s drunk) will groan and moan, taking deep breaths so loud like a virgin trying not to cum to quickly
Aims to please!!!!!! love going down on you especially when he either needs to let go for a while (lets you ride his face), or if he gets jealous and wants to make sure you know that he’s the only one who can make you feel like that.
if you have a vagina he pushes your legs up by the backs of your thighs so you’re completely exposed and fucking goes at it, not stopping until you either; start crying, cum so many times you lose count, squirt or safe-word him. will push your hands away when
you try to grab his hair to either push him away or bring him closer.
if you have a penis he loves sitting you down on a chair or the edge of a bed and holding you down by your thighs so you can’t buck up into his mouth. gets you there then holds tight at your base so you cant cum/pulls back at the last second to ruin it. will dig his short nails into your thighs when you won’t stop moving.
pull his hair please
would never say it but loves when you call him by his rank
you accidentally said it one time when you were on leave and you didn’t come out of the room all day. you had a reservation for dinner at 5 and when that time rolled around you were letting in the bed shaking, coming down from the best orgasm of your life. you tried to get up and have a shower but ended up going twice more around the room and twice in the shower, every time finishing with a cry of “Lieutenant Speirs!”, they got him to just go harder. you showed up for your 5pm reservation at 8:30, still shaking slightly. Ron was a smug s.o.b through all of dinner.
fucked👏🏻you👏🏻on👏🏻his👏🏻desk👏🏻
had his hand covering your mouth to keep you from screaming so loud everyone could hear you
at one point someone comes and knocks on his door, he slows but doesn’t stop rocking into you as he speaks to them through the door, his hand covering your mouth and you stare at him with wide eyes, as he’s speaking to the poor person on the other side of the door he kisses and nips and sucks at your neck, basically he’s torturing you and expects you to make zero noise
you let out a single squeak and he freezes, glaring at you, you start shaking your head trying to apologize but his hand is still over your mouth
“i’ll come back later sir…”
the SECOND that poor guy is gone Ron tightens his hand on your mouth and goes crazy, rubbing you with his one hand, while moving in and out and fucking whispering into your ear practically degrading you for making so much noise while he’s fucking you and someone is on the other side of the door (this man makes me have many thoughts)
he loves to look up at you while going down on you, the same as earlier, he’s looking up at you like you hung the moon and the stars and you can barely look at him because the look in his eyes is just too much for your brain to process through all the stimulation
when he’s jealous or you’re both being rougher he loves to make you look him in his eyes, staring at him as he makes you feel so good and his eyes flutter closed because he’s getting just as much if not more pleasure from this than you are
will finger you under any table, does not matter who is sitting with you
(possibly more than) once Ron has been fingering you under the table and Lewis and Dick know exactly what’s going on and one of them has to fake feeling sick because they know if they don’t leave now yall are gonna end up fucking on the table and they don’t want to see that
once you two are married he LOVES and i means LOVES to finger you and lick your cum off of his ring finger with the wedding band still on it, it’s so possessive and makes him so turned on
you’re the only person who can top him
loves when you take control, especially when you ride him and pull his hair, grab him by the face to make him look at you and are overall rough with him (also loved when you make him cum before you and you just sit with him twitching inside you while he comes down until he can go again because i “I didn’t finish, what did i say was going to happen if you came before I got to?”
lazy, beautiful morning sex in with a warm breeze coming through the windows
defo has fucked you in the back garden; both on the grass (you were bent over on the ground gardening and he just couldn’t help himself because “you know how i feel when you wear those bottoms-“), and him sitting on the wicker seating set with the comfortable cushions you have in the back with you lazily riding him, not really thrusting and jumping as much as just lazily rolling your hips together
loves clothed sex; both of you being clothed (hiumping each other over pants or him pulling your dress/skirt up to push against your underwear), or only one of you being clothed (he loves the way it looks when he’s jumping against your covered ass and you love the way the front of his pants look when you get them wet by rocking against him)
not necessarily risky when it comes to sex but has a bit of a kink for almost getting caught, (would never want you two to get actually caught since he’s “the only one allowed to see you like this”)
you guys have fucked in ever room in your house, just to run through a couple places:
living room: couch, every chair, floor (rug)
kitchen: kitchen table, counter (both over and on top of it), dining room table
bedroom: bed, chair, over the and on top of the dresser, against the door, against ye window (faces the backyard)
bathrooms: bathtub, shower, lid closed (ya nasty) sitting on the toilet, against the door, tiled floor and the bath mat
office: desk (over it, on top of it, on the edge of it, eating you out/sucking him off leaning against the table/sitting on the edge of the chair), sitting on his lap in the chair, against the bookshelf, window nook, the arm chair
garage: in the car, on the hood of the car, against the door during parties, against the wall (the concrete causing you to arch your back from the cold rough texture)
closets (upstairs ones while guests are over and asking “where tf are our hosts?”
okay that’s my short list of places lmaooo
idc what parts you have Ron has a breeding kink
you guys love to cockwarm while reading it while one of you is doing work
likes to kiss you while you’re having sex but when you’re in control prefers when you bite and nip at him
has a slight choking kink
within the first 2 times you guys have sex he knows a) exactly what to do to get you going and b) where the most sensitive parts of your body are and WILL use that against you every chance he gets
this man whines when he gets too sensitive, is really calm and comfortable, or when you’re topping him and calling him nicknames
has a choking kink (on either of you)
he’s very vocal with grunts and either praise or degrading you, also moans the first time he’s in you, every time
calls you: baby, sweetheart, perfect, (when more aggressive): cocksleeveve, slut, good boy/girl
will call you his personal medic/nurse/doctor
you call him: baby, lovey, good/perfect boy, daddy occasionally, captain speirs (which will get him to go to a whole other level)
you two have done some sexy medic/patient role play before both during the war and after (mayhaps a little morphine was involved, which was very hard to explain to Gene why you were down a bottle suddenly)
overstimulate each other
loves to watch you touch yourself, the way your body moves is like crack to him
you do this both when you’re trying to torture him (he’s tired to the headboard or a chair) or as a mutual masturbation thing
he is the perfect size, rides that sweet line between “ouch that’s too big” and “a slight stretch” where you tend to need a second when he sinks in for the first time but the stretch is always welcome
you both love when you give him head and when you pull back you’re connected to him with spit and cum
yall definitely had secret foxhole rendezvous (this is where his ‘hand over your mouth to keep you quiet’ kink came from)
after your first time together (on the wonderful Paris leave), you look over at him with watery eyes and just say “i love you so much.” he doesn’t hesitate with a “i love you more than anything.”
that instigates the softest second round of just sweet, loving kisses and quiet “i love you”’s in between and when you finish
keeps asking you to wear your PT clothes (post war) because he can’t help but watch hot your body and muscles move under the tight shirt and short shorts
after weeks of him asking you surprise him by coming back from a light run in those clothes and he knows that it’s on
after some hot ass sex you ask him if he’ll wear his “your back and muscles look great in that shirt and your ass looks incredible in those shorts.”
within the week he pulls the same scenario of going out for a light run in that outfit and you jump his fucking bones
he likes it why you try to cover your moans and whines by biting your lip or with your hand or in a pillow but you just can’t help it and become so loud
you both like when the other gets watery eyes and starts getting all soft and sensitive and their eyes get wide and submissive
like to talk to you during sex, “you’re doing so good for me-“ “fuck you’re feel good baby-“, “you krio doing that i won’t last long-“, “you look so good when you ride me baby, oh fu—“
when he gets really close after a few rounds and is overstimulated and is almost crying (consensually) he pants and gasps and finishes with a cry and maybe a sob but he feels so good-
loves when you feel too much and you just sort of space out for a second or go silent because your brain just short circuits
maybe you squirt once and tried to do it for a whole night after that
once did it so much that he made you dehydrated (can that even happen? idk, but now it can.)
y’all have aftercare DOWN
you know exactly what the other needs after there are dom/sub roles in play or after just regular (incredible as usual) sex
cleaning each other in the shower or bath gentle, kissing so softly of sometimes just being near each other but not touching because you’re both so sensitive
tea and snacks in bed cuddled up after (or any food and hydration really)
if one of you is particularly tired after, the other reads to them while running their hair through their hair until the person on their lap/shoulder/chest fall asleep
aggressive angry sex (you’re never scared the other is going to hurt each other because you know that you’re never angry at each other (just something/someone else) and that you just need to get all of the aggression and energy out and maybe feel more in control of the world for a bit
talks you through it
“that feel good sweetheart? tell me how good it feels.”
“what’s wrong baby, you gonna cum for me again?”
“oh you just feel so good you can’t even think anymore! so drunk on my cock aren’t you sweetheart!”
yell tease each other like it’s your job
that could mean verbally teasing each other or edging each other, or giving the other the gentlest touches and brushes, just barely touching the other for them to get anything other than a shiver of pleasure
slow dancing that just turned to grinding
This man makes me have thoughts I should not have, so I will stop here <3
#ronald speirs x reader#band of brothers#ron speirs x reader#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers imagine#ron speirs#ronald speirs#dano speaks#headcannons
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You Can’t Start a Fire Without a Spark (Ron Speirs x Reader)
Summary: Night falls in Bavaria to victorious revelry, and at the goading of your friends, the lust you've been kindling in secret suddenly burns hot and wild to the touch.
Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used besides the slightest bit of backstory. Inspired by several Bruce Springsteen songs. This is based on the fictional portrayals in the HBO miniseries and not the real individuals. (Also, hi I’m Battie! This is my first Band of Brothers fic despite being a fan of the miniseries since 2016. Let me know what you think🖤) Do not interact if you’re under 18, are a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: Inherent power imbalance. Explicit content involving vaginal fingering and unprotected sex.
You weren’t sure how six of you managed to squeeze into a booth together in the Bavarian bar, elbow-to-elbow as you drank beer and shouted over each other. Sitting squished against Talbert, who was squished against Malarkey, one of your legs wasn’t even in the booth. On the other side of the table, Babe, Perconte, and Luz were in the same situation.
Victory in Europe had just been declared. The celebratory feeling filled your lungs with each breath despite the cloud of cigarette smoke that hung over the bar. With the war in Japan still raging on, the likelihood of those without enough points having to endure another drop remained up in the air. One night of fun wouldn’t hurt anybody. No one could say you hadn’t earned it.
Glancing around at your friends, the guys you lived and would’ve died for—even after the war ended, if you were being honest with yourself. You couldn’t imagine being closer with anyone else. Growing up without much of a family, passed around homes of distant relatives and near strangers until you had enough and ventured out on your own as a teen, you’d never had such strong connections before. The only reason you were even allowed to work so closely with Easy Company, was the absence of any next-of-kin, no one to cause a fuss if something went wrong while you were overseas. You were non-combat detail, of course, typing and running errands as needed, but more often than was likely ideal, you found yourself somewhere on the line with the medic training you’d gotten.
You hadn’t been at Toccoa with them, only meeting most of the guys just before D-Day. After Operation Market Garden’s failure in Holland, they came around to you upon the return to Aldbourne, least surprising of whom was Talbert, ever so kindly taking you under his wing when he was recovering from being accidentally stabbed by Smith. The two of you became close friends, and though you heard of his exploits with women in just about every city the company passed through, he seemed hellbent on being your wingman, trying to set you up with at least half a dozen members of Easy to little success.
With the taste of sweet victory and bold German beer on everyone’s lips, declarations of what and who everyone would ideally do to celebrate poured from your friends with little prompting. Knowing you well enough at that point, Tab took the opportunity to get you in on the conversation, the light mood and buzz in your system leaving you more loose-lipped than usual.
“Alright, our company’s eligible bachelorette,” Tab said, conspiratorial mirth in his voice. “Fraternization rules to the dust, which of Easy’s officers would you do your celebrating with?”
Your lips twitched, failing to suppress your smile as your drinking buddies awaited your answer. “Speirs.”
Finishing off the rest of your beer, you stifled your amusement at the clamor that ensued. Undoubtedly the least expected answer, part of Tab’s failure to secure a date for you among his comrades was your infatuation with the legendary captain—closely guarded, until you had a beer or two in you, apparently.
“Speirs?” Babe repeated incredulously.
“No way,” Malarkey said, shaking his head. “No fucking way.”
“They need to get you to one of those headshrinkers,” Perconte said.
“Hold on a minute,” Tab said with an amused smile, trying to reign in the chaos. “Let’s hear her out.”
“You wanna know why?” you asked.
Ever since Speirs stuck with Easy Company after Bastogne, you worked closely with him as you did the other officers, taking notes and keeping memos for them. Speirs often requisitioned you to type up reports for him, finding it easier to dictate what he wanted written to you than typing them himself. Sometimes you found his attention drifting off when it was a more mundane report, his words trailing away while he looked at you, typically slouched on a chair or couch at the end of a long day. You would let yourself take him in, hoping the perceptive man wouldn’t notice the way your eyes trailed up his long, outstretched legs to his disheveled hair.
He provided the most attention to battlefield exploits, and at times you couldn’t keep up with how fast he was speaking or would find yourself a bit startled by some of the gruesome details he relayed. You’d heard the rumors about him. Everyone had. But a disgustingly repressed part of you that’d emerged at some point during the war was secretly thrilled by them, almost hoping they were true.
“Well, you owe us that much,” Luz said.
“I owe you all jack and shit.”
“What if I buy you another drink?”
“I think I’m gonna need another one after hearing this,” Babe muttered.
“Let’s see, why would I sleep with Captain Speirs,” you said, playfully tapping your chin in faux thought. “For starters, he’s fine as hell, which should be reason enough. I like that he’s a no-nonsense kinda guy. He has this intensity that I think is really sexy.”
The cacophony of bewilderment and objection that filled the booth met its slow death when the occupant of the booth behind yours got up. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry when you saw it was Speirs.
He made his way out of the pub, your light mood with him.
“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Do you think he heard?”
“No way he didn’t,” Malarkey said.
“Fuck, I need to do something before I get demoted or transferred or something.”
Tab grinned. “Well, if you’re not walking straight tomorrow, we’ll know you did something.”
“Shut up, jerk!” you hissed. “I’m in this mess because of you.”
He gave you a mocking salute.
You flipped him off as you got up from the table, running after your CO who more than likely overheard you expressing to your buddies that you’d enthusiastically have sex with him. Of course it happened the one time you actually joined in on their vulgarity.
Unlike his silent stride, your boots pounded against the pavement, announcing your approach to him.
He turned around abruptly, and you nearly fell over your own feet as you stopped in your tracks.
His intense gaze on you felt like being at the end of his rifle’s sight. “Are you drunk, Y/L/N?”
“No—no, sir.”
“Good. I could use your help with a report.”
You stared at him blankly. A report. At ten o’clock at night. “Of course, sir. Anything you need.”
The corners of his lips upturned for a split second. “I’m sure.” Fuck. He’d definitely heard you.
The two of you started off down the street, toward a more residential area wherein officers had requisitioned houses for the US Army’s use for the foreseeable future. Almost dreamily picturesque, tree branches waved at you in the cool night breeze, the surrounding mountains illuminated by the bright fullness of the moon. From the soft glow of street lamps lighting your way, something you’d previously taken for granted, you tried not to stare at him. In the warm glow of that balmy summer evening, however, he looked almost too good to be true. Hair slightly unkempt, the whisper of stubble along his jaw and cheeks, surely his face would feel like heaven between your thighs.
Soldiers in all states of drunkenness ambled up and down either side of the street, hollering and singing in carefree celebration. Speirs placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you past a group of men who could hardly walk straight. One of them walked right into you, his head nearly colliding with yours.
“Fuck,” the young soldier grumbled under his breath, shooting you a dirty look for being in his way.
Speirs wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you aside to stand in front of you. “Private,” he snapped, staring down the young man who looked like he was about to shit himself. “I advise you get yourself together and watch where you’re going.”
“Yes, sir—Captain Speirs, sir,” he said, turning his attention to you. “Sorry, ma’am.”
You nodded silently, and the private ran off after his buddies.
Speirs turned to you, his hands on your shoulders as his intense gaze searched your face for any sign of injury.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
In Hagenau, one of the replacements had been pestering you the moment he laid eyes on you. At first, you humored him, supposing he needed a friend, as the men who’d been through Normandy and Bastogne were understandably closed-off and tight knit. Thought the new guys were too green, too eager to do something stupid and get someone killed in pursuit of battlefield glory that was too haunting to exist.
Then he started getting handsy, not enough to be outright inappropriate, but enough to make you uncomfortable. You weren’t sure what possessed you to mention it to Speirs when he’d asked you how you were doing one afternoon. His brow furrowed, he gave you a silent nod in response. The replacement had been transferred elsewhere the following day.
Though Speirs stared right at you, there was something far away in his eyes as he squeezed your shoulders.
“I’m fine, sir,” you repeated. “I promise.”
“Hmm? Oh, right,” he said softly.
He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, not bothering to offer you one. You were in the minority of people who didn’t smoke, allowing you to leverage the packs in your rations to trade amongst the men. As time went on, you’d leave them on top of your finished reports for Speirs, especially if they were Luckys. You watched silently as he lit the cigarette in his mouth, a shining silver lighter in his hand. His eyes drifted from the flame back to you, though you noticed the slightest spark behind them.
The rest of the walk was uneventful until you reached the house. A few stragglers hung around on the street outside, their voices becoming the slightest bit more hushed as they watched you follow Speirs inside. By the time the front door shut, they’d already begun speculating why the two of you were going to his place so late. With the way the men spread gossip, you could hazard a guess as to what the tale would morph into by the morning. You silently bemoaned the prospect of the night hardly being as interesting as whatever they conjured up.
Following him upstairs, the makeshift office seemed especially cramped with the boxes and papers that were haphazardly spread around the place. It’d probably take weeks to sift through it all, especially since a glance at one of the files appeared to be in German. Getting help wouldn’t be the issue, but rather the fact that none of the members of Easy who knew German were particularly inclined toward office work, becoming restless after an hour or so.
A problem for another time, however. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly half past ten, and you were almost inclined to ask Speirs about coffee, depending on how long he expected the report to take. You sat down at the desk, ready to begin typing the date when you noticed the ink was out.
“Is there any typewriter ribbon around, sir?” you asked.
He nodded. “Should be in one of the drawers.”
You opened the drawer immediately to your right, finding a mess of stationary that had clearly been shoved in carelessly. Or maybe someone had taken something out of it in a hurry. Digging through it, you came up empty, and moved onto the drawer below it. No dice. The one to your left didn’t have typewriter ribbon either, at least, you would have been surprised to find it tucked in with the loot that nearly filled the thing to the brim–shining silverware, glistening jewelry, and trinkets that someone with a keener eye than you had clearly decided were valuable enough to keep.
His extensive looting was an open secret, but a glimpse of this treasure trove was a shock to the system. So entranced by the contents of the drawer, you didn’t hear him walk up beside you until his shadow fell over the necklaces and rings you silently coveted.
He gave you a sly smile, wolfish in the dim lighting. “Haven’t had much of a chance to organize those.”
“They’re beautiful,” you whispered in awe, gingerly touching a pearl necklace.
“Try them on.”
“Are you sure?”
“Go ahead.”
You picked up the string of pearls, a nervousness washing over you at holding something so valuable, something of his. Walking over to the window, the nearest reflective surface you could find, you pulled the necklace on, garish against your uniform. You tried shaking off the odd feeling of playing dress-up in front of your commanding officer, a girlish whim he inexplicably allowed you to indulge in. His expression was unreadable when you turned around for him.
“They suit you,” he finally said, brushing his fingers against the pearls, slowly drifting lower to the exposed skin of your decollete. “Keep them.”
It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you small gifts every now and then—typewriter ribbon, fountain pens, chocolate, trinkets. You knew better than to question where he got them, as he seemed to give them to you at the perfect moment. The stationary supplies when you were running low on them, chocolate and trinkets when you were feeling down. At times they’d be accompanied by notes from him. Usually short, but so sincere you treasured them more than the gifts. Whenever you’d try to thank him, he’d just shrug, almost dismissing the gesture.
This time, feeling bold in the cover of night, you pressed your lips to his cheek, uttering a quiet “thank you.”
He didn’t react. Disappointed, you moved to sit back down at the desk until he grabbed your arm, gently pulling you back to him.
“Were you telling the truth?” he asked, his voice a husky, demanding whisper. “Back at the bar.”
“Yes.”
“So if I said I’ve wanted you in a bad way since Bastogne?”
You kissed him, an explosion of warmth in your chest as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He settled his hands on your hips, squeezing them with a tenderness that betrayed his longing. Parting your lips for him, you allowed him to deepen the kiss, wanting to see how far he’d take it.
Almost overwhelmed by his gentle intensity, you pulled away from his lips, though his mouth chased yours, capturing yet another kiss from you.
“Show me how you want me,” you pleaded with desperate kisses to his face, trailing down to his throat where you could feel the way he groaned in pleasure at your touch.
“In my room,” he managed to say. “I wanna lay you on the bed and–”
“Anything, anything you want, Ron.”
His lips slightly blushed from the ferocity of your kiss, he parted his mouth as if to speak, but instead took your hand firmly in his.
He led you straight down the nondescript hallway that nevertheless left you feeling turned around, dizzied by your desire for him. A door opened, and you were promptly pulled inside the room. The click of the lock behind you sent a slight shiver down your spine.
Pulled into his arms again, you lost yourself in his fervent kiss, until you reached down, palming his hardening cock through his pants. He moaned into your mouth, the sound only exacerbating the heat between your thighs, the ache inside of you that up until that point had been abated by your fingers, always rushed, never satisfying the urge to be filled–by him, preferably. From the way he felt beneath your hand, he could do all of that and more.
And after the months of silently, almost guiltily lusting after him like a nun, he wanted you too. The ego boost emboldened you. “Did you ever think about me when you were alone?” you asked, giving his bulge a gentle squeeze.
“Yes–fuck,” he groaned.
“Like what?”
“Besides keeping me warm in that goddamn forest? This–I thought of this,” he murmured against your lips. “But I didn’t let myself think of a future with you. I couldn’t have survived if I did.”
“And now?”
“I want everything you’ll give me, sweetheart.”
“Lucky you, that’s exactly what I wanna give.”
He smiled slightly, his hands hastily working to unbutton your shirt. “Lucky–except you’re wearing too many clothes.”
You reached for the pearls, about to take them off when he caught your wrist in his hand.
“Leave them on.” His voice was steady, authoritative, the closest he sounded to Speirs since he scolded the private who walked into you earlier.
Weak in the knees, you acquiesced to the one and only order your captain would give you that night. You otherwise undressed, your uniform in a pile at your feet. Your bra and panties were simple, certainly not the sexy lingerie you’d fantasized about seducing Ron in, but his eyes blazed as if your body were hugged by an inviting satin set. A burst of confidence rushed through you, and you held his gaze as you discarded your bra and panties.
You laid back on the bed as he undressed, watching intently until he was down to nothing more than his underwear, his hard cock straining against the fabric. He pulled them off, and you sucked in a breath at how big he was. Erect, at attention for you, all the more intimidating as he approached, joining you on the bed. His daring in the line of fire sure as hell wasn’t compensating for anything.
He straddled your hips, his eyes taking in your naked form with a primal intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. He reached down, two of his fingers circling your clit, your body trembled beneath his touch. By the way he studied how your face contorted in pleasure as a foreign-sounding moan rose from deep in your chest, you could tell it was payback for your teasing him just minutes before.
His fingers shifted, slipping inside your wet core with ease. He pumped them in and out at a steady pace that made your stomach tighten and toes curl, but slowly bringing you closer to orgasm. You bucked your hips when he curled his fingers inside of you, blood rushing in your ears so loud that you could hardly hear the obscene sounds coming from your pussy. A lump formed in your throat, one that made you nearly howl in frustration.
“Who got you this worked up, sweetheart?” he asked, nipping the shell of your ear.
A whimper. “You.”
“What was that?”
“You.” Through a haze of lust-soaked desperation, you took his face in your hands. “Don’t make me beg, Sparky. It’s always been you.”
He pulled his hand from between your legs, and you nearly whined until he slid his length inside your pussy, your walls clenching around his cock. You braced yourself on his shoulder blades, your nails doing a number on him as you dug them into his taut skin while he thrust into you. Carefully at first, almost frustratingly so, until you cried, “More.”
He was bigger than you were used to, even before the war, but the slight discomfort was drowned out by the way his steady, deep thrusts filled you. He ducked his head down, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, his hand groping the other. Sucking on your breast, his teeth grazed your nipple, the hint of pain complimenting the pleasure. Your climax was so close you could see it if you closed your eyes, raw and vulnerable.
“Ron, I’m so close,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”
He lifted his head, nodding. “Where should I–”
“Inside–fuck–I want you to cum inside me.”
And he did, with an erratic thrust that pushed him deeper inside you still. You kissed him as your pussy milked his cock, lifting your hips to grind against him for the slightest bit of friction to your clit. You threw your head back as you came, an obscene moan escaping your lips as pleasure spread across your body, white-hot like a star in supernova.
His name fell from your lips, laced with curses, over and over like a vulgar prayer. He pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your decollete, his lips brushing the pearls that stuck to your sweat-sheened skin until he shuddered, bottoming out in you.
He pulled out slowly, his toned chest heaving before he collapsed next to you. Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes, silently offering you one. You declined, and he placed one between his lips, using a nearby match to light it before taking you in his arms. You settled comfortably against his chest, closing your eyes for a few moments.
“So, what about that report?” you asked slyly when you’d finally caught your breath.
His quiet laughter rumbled in his chest, and he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze betraying his adoration as he looked at you. “I might need your help again tomorrow night."
Knowing it was too risky for you to spend the night, he reluctantly let you leave around three in the morning, a slight pout on his face as you took off the pearl necklace and tucked it into your pocket. You left him with a passionate parting kiss, one that he used to nearly convince you to stay just a little bit longer until you quietly promised you’d report to him first thing.
The streets were mostly deserted except for the men on patrol. You kept your head down, booking it back to where you were quartered, hoping your arrival wouldn’t wake anyone up, or at least raise any questions.
Just your luck, you ran right into Tab, a shit-eating grin on his face at your disheveled appearance. “I knew it."
#ronald speirs x reader#ron speirs x reader#band of brothers#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers fanfic#band of brothers imagine#hbo war#hbo war fanfic
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noises in the bedroom with ron, lew, lieb, luz, and shifty
word count: 770+
warnings: reader has female genitalia, degradation (only in ron's), praise, teasing, i call nixon a whore for the reader (it's true)
notes: i couldn't include babe in this one cause i just decided that i would write for him (and therefore i must do Research) but hope you guys enjoy anyway !!
ronald speirs
big on praise-degradation, like 50/50 on it
unless you managed to really set him off (ex; make him jealous on purpose, tease him, be a brat, etc.), then don't expect very many kind words
he can be so mean and unfair when he wants to, but by the end of it he’s worshiping you like you're a deity
he’ll call you a slut but his slut, yk?
could not care less about who hears — no one's gonna confront him about it anyway with his reputation, and they're definitely not coming up to you either since they know ron is going to be death glaring them the whole time
he groans and grunts huskily + openly and encourages you to not cover up/muffle your sounds with your hand
(quickies are, of course, the exception since that would be unsafe, and if higher-ups are around, obviously he's about to care; in any other situation though, no one is safe from hearing the two of you)
lewis nixon
somehow his moans are louder than yours???
LIKE that's not a bad thing, it just means he's enjoying it just as much as you but he's just so vocal about it, saying your name or princess, doll, sweetheart like his life depended on it
(he's such a whore for you, especially when he goes down on you. you're gonna be feeling the vibrations of his groans bc omg is he obsessed with eating you out…but that's another story)
this is mostly because he also does not care who hears (same exceptions as ron). i imagine dick having to come talk to you all flustered, his face matching his hair and his eyes cast to the ground, asking you guys to keep it down
…nixon definitely didn't get any play for two weeks after that
despite being the #1 slut for you, he still manages to tease you, saying things like, “tell me how bad you want it.” (as if he doesn't want it just as bad)
joseph liebgott
he's probably the biggest pottymouth out of the five
anything he does is followed up by a hoarse “fuck, doll” or “shit, (y/n)”
he's trying to cover up the fact that he's a bit of a whiner/panter
he’ll kiss marks onto and around your breasts to muffle the sound of his moans
definitely says “yeah, you like that?” or “that feel good, baby?” during foreplay, smirking down at you while you’re begging for more (he's a little cocky with it)
becomes soft during and afterwards; he's scared to be vulnerable but he can't help telling you how pretty you look, how good you feel, and how much he loves you
will probably confess some of these things in german so he's not as vulnerable, but you still get the gist either way (and if you do understand german, he's screwed)
george luz
honestly he's just kind of unserious, like this man is giggling he's so happy to be with you (and his laughter and smile are infectious so now you're laughing too and telling him to shut up)
he’ll praise you with jokes, telling you you're prettier than any pinup model
“rita doesn't have anything on you, beautiful.” cue you rolling your eyes with a smile and telling him he’s cheesy
he's a little bit of a cusser too (especially when you play with his hair), not to the level of lieb though
“damn, (y/n), i'm lucky you're all mine.”
eventually the jokes and goofiness dissolve into him straight up telling you how good you feel around him and that you're especially gorgeous like this
+ him confessing his love for you when he's still catching his breath
“(y/n), have i ever told you how much i love you?”
“maybe 100 times today, george”
“oh so not enough then” you kiss him before he can remind you again
shifty powers
loves to praise you (and be praised honestly)
like he swears up and down that you're the most perfect girl alive
he can't believe that you're his and he's yours
kind of shy about his moans but he can't stop himself/hide them well enough because he moans at the slightest touch (he's so in love with you)
whimpers when you say he's making you feel good and “don't stop”
he's definitely asking if you're sure about anything and everything, reminding you that you don't have to go through with this if you don't absolutely want to
you just have to be like “darrell c. powers, please just take me” and lord will he oblige you with the brightest goddamn smile on his face
-
taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @samwinchesterslostshoe
#ron speirs x reader#lewis nixon x reader#joe liebgott x reader#george luz x reader#shifty powers x reader#band of brothers#band of brothers x reader#hbo war#easy company#101st airborne#band of brothers fanfic#band of brothers imagine#hbo war fanfic#band of brothers imagines#ron speirs#ronald speirs#ronald speirs x reader#lewis nixon#joe liebgott#joseph liebgott x reader#joseph liebgott#george luz#shifty powers
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In The Bleak Mid-Winter
[One-shot]
Ronald Speirs x Nurse!Female Reader
No good deed goes unpunished, but your reassignment brings with it an unexpected reward.
Warnings: Language, Weapons, Canon Typical Violence, Smoking, Treatment of Wounds, Medical Procedures, Hospital Settings, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex - m/f receiving, fingering, cum eating] - 18+ ONLY
Author’s Note: This was written entirely on my phone as my laptop is in for emergency repairs - I hated the experience, and apologize if there are any formatting issues or a surplus of typos. Also, I made some distinct narrative choices in writing this but I won’t burden you with them up front. They’re in the post-script if you’re interested! This is a work of fiction based off the actors’ portrayal in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life persons mentioned within.
Word Count: 6171
————————————-
December 29, 1944 - Bastogne
“Fifty surgeries in two days with only three deaths. It is nothing short of a miracle. I’m halfway through a report recommending you all for a medal....and then I come to find out you landed in the middle of an encircled town on an unpiloted glider, through all manner of artillery fire, with a goddamn woman?! A woman!”
Your bleary eyes focused on the lit end of the cigarette pinched between the index and middle finger of your right hand, the icy caress of the north wind howling between the tent and the garage outside the Bastogne barracks one of the only things keeping you awake. Weary from nearly forty-eight hours of surgery, it would have been difficult to stay awake under normal circumstances, but the mortification you felt as General McAuliffe screamed at Major Dorward behind thin walls of canvas was certainly helping keep you on your aching feet in the ankle deep snow.
Bundled tightly in your great coat, collar turned up against the wind, face buried into the olive drab scarf around your neck, helmet protecting your head, the only bit of exposed skin was that hand you were straining to focus on. The other was deep inside your pocket, balled into a fist. You were vaguely aware of various people darting through the barracks yard behind you, making their way to and fro, loading vehicles, delivering men to the now-central clearing station since the bombing of the cathedral the day before your arrival. Covered as you were, you were barely indistinguishable from an ordinary soldier, yet the General had managed to find out your secret nonetheless.
“I have every faith that she can handle herself out here sir, there was no more qualified surgical assistant to accompany us.”
“But she is not a surgical assistant, Major, is she?! She’s just a nurse! A nurse whose life you endangered by sneaking her aboard that glider! I ought to have you court martialed!!!”
The General did have a point, hidden though it was within the avalanche of vitriol he was sending the Major’s way. You were in fact no more than a surgical nurse - assistants were enlisted men. But during your third or fourth surgery with the Major, right after D-Day, a brand new surgical assistant had been assigned to the operating room and not five minutes in had fainted to the floor.
With the patient in a life threatening position you had stepped forward to fill in the gap and ensure no impact to care or outcome. It had been the start of a very effective working relationship as the 12th Evacuation Hospital made its way across France behind the advancing American army.
Thus when Major Dorward had volunteered for this assignment, and asked if you would consider joining him, your only hesitation was born of the concern for the hell you two might catch. The hell he was in the very midst of catching right now.
You hissed at the sudden pain as the lit end of the cigarette met your flesh and quickly flicked it into the snow, not having taken one puff. When General Nuts himself had stormed into the tent, eyes blazing, the Major had sent you outside in the early dawn light with the lit cigarette and his rifle for protection. It had rather felt like you were your own firing squad, though the Major was most certainly the one under fire at the moment.
The creak of boots in the nearby snow, much closer than all those that had passed by before, made you jump slightly. You turned quickly to see an exhausted soldier, eyes bleached a pale grey in the now-brilliant morning sunshine. He looked cold, and exhausted, as all the men you’d run into here did. His face was handsome, though, lashes luxuriously long for a man carrying a Thompson submachine gun. He held out a pack of cigarettes to you, offering you a new one to replace that which you’d mistakenly allowed to burn out and you shook your head before extracting your face from its position nestled deep within your scarf.
“I don’t actually smoke, please don’t waste any of your cigarettes on me, soldier.” You smiled weakly, watching as his eyes widened a fraction before the General’s voice somehow rose even further in volume to respond to something the Major had said.
“I don’t give two shits if she can transplant heads, the risks involved were unacceptable, Major, and believe me you have not heard the last of this! Your surgical record over the last two days has been impressive, but this was utterly reckless!”
The soldier’s eyes flicked to the tent then back to you as everything surely came together in his mind and you looked down at the outline of yourcombat boots buried in the snow, wondering if it was too much to ask for the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You heard the tent flap flutter and tensed in anticipation of the General’s departure, but instead a gunshot rang out from across the clearing beyond the barracks, the snow scattering at your feet.
Strong arms yanked around your waist and pulled you back behind the shelter of the tent and the pair of you quickly lay flat in the snow, unmoving, barely breathing. The harassment from the enemy had been almost constant from the moment the glider had entered occupied air space and that, combined with any and all abilities you might possess being questioned by the General simply because of your gender, had you feeling rather enraged.
Pulling Major Dorward’s rifle from your shoulder, you crawled on your elbows to cautiously peer around the corner of the tent across the meadow and into the tree line beyond. Nothing moved. Years spent stalking deer at your father’s side had taught you patience, and how to aim the rifle in your hands. It seemed the former would not be required as a soldier came blithely walking out of the garage-turned-operating theatre completely unaware that there was a sniper.
The soldier at your side gestured at him violently - you could feel the movement of his body where his hip was still pressed against your leg, but it went unnoticed. Another shot rang out.
“Holy shit!” The man wailed as he darted back inside, a shower of brick dust audibly hitting the snow somewhere to your rear. The sniper was clearly lacking in talent, but you were focused on the movement in the coniferous tree to your two o’clock.
Exhaling slowly you squeezed the trigger and there was a hoarse shout followed by the sound of a body tumbling through cracking branches and ending in a sickening thud.
“Trying to kill my goddamn patients.” You muttered bitterly under your breath and carefully sat up, looking back to the soldier as he exhaled slowly.
He was eyeing you, expression intense and inscrutable, but your gaze was drawn to the gap at the collar of his ODs where you could see fresh blood oozing from a poorly bandaged wound at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, staining his wool shirt just below below his silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia.
“You’re bleeding, Lieutenant.” You said quickly, pushing on his hip to encourage him to roll over so you might kneel at his side for a better look, pleased when he immediately complied.
You laid the rifle in the snow next to him and pulled the bandages away, frowning deeply to see lingering splinters of wood in the wound. As you carefully probed at them he hissed and you tensed, quickly apologizing.
“It’s nothing, ma’am, I’m fine.”
The tent flap opening and closing followed by heavy footfalls in the snow signalled the arrival of General McAuliffe on the scene.
“Everything alright, Lieutenant?” He asked quickly and the man below you nodded quickly.
“Just some shrapnel from a tree burst, sir.”
You looked up to the General slowly, watching his eyes land on the rifle at the Lieutenant’s side before glancing across the clearing.
“Good. Well done with the sniper, son.”
The Lieutenant shifted uncomfortably but you nodded quickly, helping him sit up. “An impressive shot, sir.” You added.
The General’s eyes fell on you, still full of that heated rage, but apparently he’d run out of words to say on the subject of your unwanted presence for he simply turned and made his way back towards the barracks.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, Lieutenant.” You turned back to him, the coppery tang of blood on the air focusing you like nothing else seemed to be able to.
Working your way to your feet, you picked up the abandoned rifle before leading him into the tent. Major Dorward looked up from some papers on his desk, opening his mouth but closing it quickly as you were followed by the Lieutenant.
“Tree burst shrapnel, sir.” You announced in your easy working shorthand.
“Damn Nazis have weaponized the forest. Have a seat, soldier.” He stood and offered his chair, walking over to the stash of supplies to fetch a field kit and bandages for you as you set the rifle on the cot in the corner, putting your helmet down beside it. “Ah my apologies, trooper.” He amended.
You turned back to see the distinct jump boots with bloused trousers now that the Lieutenant was seated and smiled. “I apologize as well, Lieutenant. I missed that outside.”
You worked his ODs and wool shirt open to began carefully cleaning his wound, leaving him in his undershirt in the chill of the tent.
“Doesn’t seem you miss much, Nurse.” He looked up to you as he spoke softly and you swallowed thickly as you noted his eyes were actually hazel, with flecks of gold around his pupils.
Mercifully Major Dorward broke out into rich laughter and shook his head. “That she doesn’t.” He commiserated affectionately from his newfound seat on the cot.
“Let me guess,” you murmured to the man seated before you as you gently worked out the last few splinters of wood that had escaped initial treatment, “you also told them this was nothing at the aid station because there were men there whom you considered hurt worse than you.” You glanced to his face as his lips twitched a little. “This could have become a real problem, Lieutenant, I’m glad you came over to offer me a cigarette.”
Turning back, you called the Major over to double check your work.
“Wound is clean and ready for bandaging.” He nodded after looking it over. “When you’re done I suggest you try and sleep. We’re driving out as soon as the truck is ready and the ride out will be about as relaxing as the flight in.”
“Understood, thank you Major.” You nodded as he stepped out of the tent to light a cigarette. You carefully lay some gauze over the crook of the Lieutenant’s shoulder before wrapping some bandages around his neck and under his armpit to hold it in place. “This should heal nicely in a week or so if you can do your best to keep it dry for me…” you trailed off as your fingers found the hole in his ODs.
Casting about the tent, your eyes landed on a tattered blanket in the corner and you began fashioning a patch, whip stitching it into place over the gash in the fabric. “That ought to do it.”
“Thank you, Nurse.” He murmured, looking up at you before he stood slowly, buttoning up his shirt and ODs with practiced efficiency.
“Take care of yourself, trooper.” You nodded, watching him step out, hoping against hope that he would be alright out there.
General McAuliffe proved to be a man of his word, which in retrospect was of no surprise to you whatsoever. The hellish ride out of Bastogne in the back of a truck on the only opened road, with the sounds of battle still raging on either side, took you to Orval where you received orders to report to the 60th Field Hospital there while the men from the 12th would return to the Evacuation Hospital you’d been stationed with since before June 1944. You had been informed your personal effects would arrive at a ‘later date.’
Nuts, indeed.
You worked in Orval for nearly a week, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, wearing the same clothing day-in, day-out, until the 60th was relieved and pulled back to Mourmelon-le-Grand. As promised, your belongings were waiting for you there, in the iron grip of a dour-faced Chief Nurse MacDonald who was only too happy to put a ‘reckless, insubordinate’ Nurse like you in her place at the 123rd Station Hospital.
What followed was a grueling month of scrubbing and refitting the near derelict buildings abandoned by the Airborne when they were abruptly called to the Ardennes. By the time the place was worthy of being called a hospital, you had managed to become at least friendly with your new colleagues, though they remained suspicious after your filthy and unceremonious arrival.
By mid-February, a tent city began to spring up around the base, heralding the impending arrival of troops from the front. And with them came all manner of cold weather maladies - pneumonia, trench foot, frostbite. Working on the general ward now, you could only eye the surgical nurses with envy, knowing your skills were going to waste emptying bedpans and changing bandages and that you had no one to blame but yourself.
Stubborn in all things, however, you worked without complaint, often being rewarded with more work or the worst assignments because your superiors knew you would complete any task with efficient silence. It was precisely this combination that saw you assigned to the night shift, a small mercy in that the vengeful Chief Nurse would never deign to work such hours, allowing you to develop a new working relationship with Captain Munro, MD.
“Nurse might I borrow you a moment?” He interrupted you as you stepped away from the bedside of a postoperative patient and you quickly nodded, following him off the ward and down the hall to his office. “I’m up to my eyeballs in trench foot but there’s an officer in here, seems he lacerated his hand helping one of his men climb out a transport - quite stubborn. Whether or not it needs sutures I am confident you can determine…” he exhaled, clearly exhausted from working a double shift as he came to a stop outside the door. “Is it alright if I leave this one in your capable hands? You’ll find everything you need in the cabinet.” He looked at you pleadingly, eyes underscored by dark bags of fatigue as he held out the chart and you nodded quickly.
“Certainly sir, please don’t worry about a thing.” You smiled softly at the relieved slump of his shoulders before he nodded firmly in thanks, dashing off down the hall to no doubt deal with another man’s beleaguered feet.
You glanced over the chart of Captain Ronald Speirs quickly before knocking on the door, giving the man some warning, before you stepped inside. You tilted your head to see the Captain with his back turned to you, halfway back into the worn jacket of his ODs, appearing quite prepared to leave.
“Just a moment please, Captain Speirs, I would like to take a look at your hand, sir.” You said softly, eyes widening as the man turned around swiftly, arms still slightly akimbo, to reveal the very same Lieutenant whom you’d bandaged that morning in Bastogne. Who’d saved your life, and watched you take out a sniper with barely a comment.
His eyes were fatigued, his hair grown long. He clearly hadn’t seen a razor in quite some time and yet you were struggling to recall a moment when you’d found a man so attractive in your entire life. You suddenly felt acutely self conscious in your white and brown seer sucker hospital dress with brown cotton stockings and cardigan to match, nursing cap pinned in your hair.
“It’s nothing ma’am, I’m fine.” He repeated himself word for word and you bit the inside of your cheek, having a hard time deciphering if he was joking or just built that obstinately. You did not miss, however, the slight rasp in the back of his throat.
“Good, let’s keep it that way, shall we Captain?”
You gestured for him to sit in the chair he’d surely recently vacated and carefully took the one across the corner of the desk from him, holding out your hand expectantly. As he set the back of his left hand in yours, you frowned at the laceration along the side of his palm. Captain Munro had been right, it really was borderline in need of suturing.
Laying his hand on the desk gently you stepped over to the cabinet to collect the necessary supplies, deciding to play it safe. You could suture quickly enough - the man clearly needed to get some rest and you did not want to keep him from it. While swiping his palm clean with an iodine wipe you glanced at him as he cleared his throat.
“I didn’t think you were assigned here.” He commented quietly.
You shook your head ruefully as you unpacked a tube of pre-threaded sutures with a curved needle. “I wasn’t until very recently. I used to be assigned to the 12th Evacuation Hospital but after my…behavior it was deemed necessary to reassign me.”
“I said nothing, I swear.” He replied quickly, brow furrowing and you could not help the smile that pulled at your lips.
“I believe you, Captain. Heaven knows where I’d be if you had.” Gently positioning his hand on the desk top, you smoothly rotated the curved needle through first one edge of his cut and then the other, looping the length of it around your forceps twice before pulling the end through to create a square knot.
You repeated two more casts before snipping the ends of the suture, looking to him sharply as he let out a rattling cough. “How long have you had that cough, Captain?”
“Few days…” he replied evasively and you hummed disapprovingly.
“If it doesn’t go away in a couple of days, you should come back and see me.” You spoke as you began the next stitch.
“And if it does get better?” He asked quietly, watching your careful work.
“I’ll be here all the same.” You replied, pressing your lips together as you fought another smile at the thrill that unfurled in your stomach.
“Whom should I ask for?” His voice came out particularly gravelly and he cleared his throat forcefully.
It was your turn to look startled as you suddenly came to realize you had yet to introduce yourself. You quickly shared your name before shaking your head in shame. “You must think me some wild animal, Captain, please forgive me.” You muttered and tied off the fourth and final stitch.
He nodded at you, eyes taking on a glossy quality that had you growing more concerned by the moment. You set down your tools and raised a hand to brush the backs of your fingers against his forehead, heart clenching as his eyes fluttered closed. Those infernal eyelashes dusting against his cheeks. His skin felt a normal temperature but another ragged cough wracked his frame and you clenched your jaw.
“I’d like to listen to your lungs, Captain.” You muttered and stepped over to the cabinet once more to grab the stethoscope you’d seen there.
He blinked up at you as he began to undo his wool shirt. “It’s Ron.” He corrected you and another smile escaped you before you managed to smother it, hands cupping the bell of the stethoscope to warm it.
“Thank you, Ron.” You said softly, inserting the tips into your ears before stepping closer to press the stethoscope against his upper left chest. “Deep breath in for me?”
You listened carefully to each quadrant of his lungs, pleased there was no crackling or anything else abnormal. Satisfied it was most likely just a cold, you looped the stethoscope around your neck as you stepped back.
“Everything seems alright, promise me you’ll get some rest and keep warm?” You asked gently, doing your best not to allow your eyes to linger on the way his undershirt clung to his lithe frame. You did take a selfish moment to appreciate how well his wound from Bastogne had healed, however.
“Promise.” He nodded, doing up his shirt more slowly this time, courtesy of the stitches in his palm. “Remind me when I get to see you again?”
You bit your lip slightly and took a breath. “If the cough doesn’t improve, a couple of days. To get your stitches out, a couple of weeks. Please keep them clean and dry until tomorrow night at least.”
“Got it.” He nodded and straightened his OD jacket, pulling on a worn scarf from the back of the chair before standing slowly.
“But for now straight to bed.” You opened the door, watching over him feeling wildly and inexplicably overprotective.
“Thank you.” He looked to you drowsily and you nodded, seeing him out then turning back to clean up and complete his chart before rushing back to your actual duties that night.
One week passed, and then another. There was no visit from Captain Speirs. You did your utmost to convince yourself it was for the best, that it meant he was healthy. That he’d had his stitches removed by a nurse on the day shift at his convenience. Word came that his entire Division would receive a Presidential Unit Citation and Ike himself would be coming to visit to deliver it on Roosevelt’s behalf.
You were promptly informed by Chief Nurse MacDonald that your presence during the ceremony was not welcome, but if you wanted to observe the Divisional dress rehearsal a few days before, on your own time of course, she would not stop you.
Breaking out your dress uniform for the first time in months, you obstinately got ready just after the end of your shift that morning and strode your way over to the parade ground with a few of the girls on the evening shift who were certainly better rested than you. More than a few off duty nurses from the five other hospitals in Mourmelon had found their way onto the grounds to take a peek at the men in their finery and you could only imagine that number would be many times higher on the fifteenth when Ike himself was there.
The weather was thankfully cooperative as you huddled together near a collection of trees watching the men of the 101st file past. The contrast between their neatly pressed uniforms with mirror shined boots and the battered but not beaten men you’d encountered in Bastogne was truly striking. Each and every one of them truly deserved the honor that was about to be bestowed upon them.
Once everyone was satisfied that the ceremony would proceed without a hitch, the men were dismissed and you turned to head back to your tent to catch what sleep you could before your shift that night. Smothering a yawn behind your hand, the group of women you were walking with all came to a halt when a familiar voice called ‘Nurse!’ All of you almost seemed to turn back as one.
If six pairs of inquisitive female eyes intimidated Captain Speirs he did not let it show. He quickly clarified with your name, the other nurses filing away murmuring amongst themselves disappointedly.
“Good morning, Captain.” You nodded to him as he came to stand in front of you, sliding his helmet from his head to tuck it under his arm.
“Good morning.” He replied, eyes skimming over your uniform curiously.
You noted he’d found the time to visit a barber, his hair neatly trimmed and styled, though you rather missed the tousled waves he’d first arrived with.
“You are sounding well, Captain. I’m glad to hear it.” You smiled softly. “Did your hand mend nicely?”
He lifted it for your inspection and you looked to him startled to see the stitches still in place.
“Captain, these sutures were ready to be removed days ago.” You chided him softly as you cradled his hand in yours.
“I was told you were unavailable.” He replied quietly and you looked to his face quizzically before it dawned on you that he must have returned to the hospital during another shift and simply left when he learned you weren’t there.
“My apologies, I work nights. Any nurse can take care of these, they must itch something fierce.” You frowned.
“What time does your shift begin tonight?” He asked, seemingly happy to leave his hand at your mercy for as long as you chose to hold it.
“2100.” You replied, noting the disappointment that pinched at the bridge of his nose. “But I could meet you there at 2015 if it means getting this taken care of.”
He nodded firmly. “2015, then. Thank you.” He eyed you a moment as you tried in vain to fight back another yawn. “What time does your shift end?”
“0900. I should get back to get some rest. Just wanted to sneak a peek at the big show. You boys will do great when Ike’s in town.” You nodded warmly.
“You won’t be here?” He tilted his head curiously and you let out a scoff of self deprecation.
“Reckless, insubordinate nurses like me aren’t to be seen by the Supreme Allied Commander.”
A furrow appeared between his brows, the muscle of his jaw ticking slightly before he exhaled. “I wish they would stop punishing you for your bravery.”
Your eyebrows shot up beneath the brim of your service cap. You had been trying your damnedest to not let it bother you, especially after hearing the men of the 12th Hospital you’d gone in with had all received the Silver Cross. To hear him speak in your defense was quite honestly overwhelming.
After a careful glance around the nearly empty parade ground confirmed the remaining individuals were otherwise occupied, you leaned in to quickly press your lips to his freshly shaved cheek, thumb swiping away any trace of your lipstick.
“Thank you, Ron.” You swallowed tightly as the heat of his gaze was as palpable as a caress on the skin of your face. “I will see you later to remove your stitches.” Squeezing his hand gently you released it to hang at his side.
His silent nod was the only response you received before you turned to make your way back to your tent for some much needed rest, though your mind would have much rather focused on the way the sunlight lit his eyes than to let you sleep.
Arriving at the hospital that night at 2000 you tracked down Captain Munro and secured his permission to borrow his office once more in the name of treating the stubborn Captain Speirs. Setting out suture scissors and tweezers on a tray upon the desk, you hurried out front to meet the Captain lest he was misinformed about your availability again.
“Good Evening.” He nodded as you stepped outside, hugging your cardigan close against the chill of the night.
“Evening, Captain, please follow me.” You smiled and led him through the maze of hallways before holding open the door to the prepared office.
He assumed the same seat as before and, closing the door behind you, you sat opposite, looking over his palm as he set it in your waiting hand.
“You’ve done a very good job keeping it clean for me, Captain, thank you.” You smiled and picked up the curved scissors, the edge that pressed against the skin not at all sharp. “I’ll cut the stitches first and then pull them out with the tweezers, alright?”
He nodded, watching you closely as you snipped your way through the silk strands very carefully.
“They call me ‘killer’ you know…” he spoke apropos of nothing and you slowly raised your eyes, feeling as though you were joining an internal conversation well in progress.
Rumors spread through camp faster than that bone rattling cough he’d arrived with - you’d heard your fair share of things about him. Particularly after your tent mates had learned that he’d spoken to you earlier that day on the parade ground.
“Sure he’s pretty and all but after the things he did to those Nazi prisoners…” Betty from Indiana had insisted with a dramatic shudder.
“And his own Sargent!” Philomena of New York had chimed in with an emphatic nod.
All of it struck you as hollow and vapid, coming from two wide-eyed girls fresh from Stateside who’d only ever known war stationed in hospitals with roofs and walls. Never been fired on, never had an enemy soldier try and take the life of a patient right out from under them.
“Well, Ron,” you replied thoughtfully as you set the scissors onto the waiting tray, “they could easily say the same thing about me. It just so happens I had a very honorable man at my side when my anger got the best of me.”
His eyes seized yours, pinning you to the spot with your hand hovering just above the set of tweezers as you forgot how to breathe. His lips tentatively began to form words several times before he abandoned his attempts to speak and lunged forward to close the space between you, his lips slotting against yours in reply instead.
Inhaling sharply through your nose in surprise, you found yourself quickly leaning into his kiss, fingers threading into his shorter hair as you tilted your head to press your lips more firmly to his. Sliding his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you close, tongue delving into your mouth greedily. A soft whimper escaped your throat only to be swallowed by his devouring mouth as he tasted you thoroughly.
Appearing discontent with the separation between your bodies, his hands shifted to grip your hips, guiding you onto his lap before his fingers began to pluck at the buttons of your cardigan. Rucking up the skirt of your dress and slip beneath, you settled over his hips, shuddering as the hard bulge of his length nestled tightly against your core.
“We don’t have a lot of time” you panted against his lips as his hands brushed aside your open cardigan to tug at the tie of your wrap dress, revealing your cream coloured slip beneath.
“Understood.” He murmured as he pulled back to drink you in, eyes taking on that glossy quality from back in February that’d had you so convinced he was febrile.
“Ron…” you urged gently, your own hands sliding between your bodies to work at the fastenings of his dress trousers.
Lost in some sort of trance he leaned forward to press his lips against the hollow of your throat before he secured the ball chain of your ID tags between his teeth and pulled them out from beneath the v-neck of your slip. Brushing his lips against the flat metal stamped with your name and serial number, preceded by the letter N, your heart lurched beneath your ribs fondly as it forgot its normal rhythm for a few beats.
The feel of his fingertips undoing the fastenings of your stockings from your garter straps refocused you and you quickly worked his fly open, sliding his trousers and boxers down as he did the same with your underwear, depositing them onto the floor.
Shifting higher onto your knees, you pressed your face against his temple as he took his cock into his hand, pressing into your entrance slowly. You whimpered breathily against his hair before dropping your head to the crook of his shoulder to try your best to keep your volume down. Rocking your hips against his with a smothered moan you clenched your thighs to begin working up and down along his length.
Heavy breaths fell from his parted lips, brushing against the skin of your neck, goose flesh erupting in the wake of each exhale. His fingers curled into the flesh of your hips as he helped drive your hips against his.
“Ahn, Ron!” You keened against his jacket, lifting your head to kiss him hungrily.
He rocked his hips up into yours each time your pelvis met his before letting out a frustrated grunt against your lips. “On the desk.” He rasped pleadingly and you nodded quickly, sliding from his lap to shuffle backwards, pushing the tray of instruments further behind you before perching on the edge.
Surging to his feet, he nestled between your legs, tongue sliding along yours as he thrust into your aching warmth once more. You cried out hungrily down his throat as your nails dug into the sleeves of his uniform jacket, clinging to him as he set a deliciously dizzying pace that had your toes curling in your shoes.
A ragged moan rumbled through his chest as his cock twitched within your wet heat and he quickly pulled back, chest heaving. Pushing from the desk, you fell to your knees, ignoring the slight sting as they impacted the floor, to wrap your lips around the leaking tip of his length.
He hissed through clenched teeth, hand coming to rest against the back of your head as you hollowed your cheeks tightly around him. Encircling him in your grasp, you eagerly stared up at his face as you stroked his cock, clenching your thighs together as the corded muscle of his neck flexed with the effort to remain silent as his salty release filled your mouth.
Laving him clean with your tongue, you sat back on your heels, swallowing every last drop as he watched on in stunned silence. Fingers sliding up your thighs to retrieve the first of your garter straps, you shivered a little as you remained highly sensitive, having been so close yourself, but also very much aware of the lack of time. You rose to your feet, about to begin fastening your stockings when his hands were on your waist, guiding you to sit on top of the desk once again.
“You didn’t…” He exhaled through flared nostrils and shook his head sharply. “Unacceptable.” Was all the warning he afforded you before he crouched down to seal his lips around your throbbing clit, two fingers plunging into your trembling warmth.
“Holy…” you barely managed to cover your mouth with your palm, hips bucking violently toward him.
He hummed against you approvingly as you lay back onto the worn wooden surface, writhing as fingers picked up the thread of your pleasure, winding it tighter and tighter as his mouth felt like it was sucking your very soul from you. Every muscle in your body became taught with exquisite tension until, at last, like the blowing of a fuse your release detonated behind your clenched eyelids.
Relaxing into the desk top with languid ease, you ran your fingers through his hair in tender appreciation. “Really…have no time now…” you murmured breathlessly and he pressed his damp lips to your inner thigh before pulling you up to a seated position and began to help you re-dress.
Any time his lips were vaguely within the vincinty of yours, you unhelpfully insisted on kissing him softly, significantly hindering progress, but eventually the pair of you were mostly presentable. He cupped your cheek with his left hand and your eyes shot wide at the rasp of sutures against your skin.
“Ron!” You gasped, grabbing his wrist and groping behind you for the tweezers before setting about carefully trying to remove them.
It was his turn to be a nuisance as he nuzzled his face into the soft skin of your neck, sighing gently, making you giggle under your breath as his eyelashes tickled your flesh.
“You are a wild animal.” His voice held a dreamlike quality, lips brushing against your throat as he spoke.
You honestly would have swatted him if his tone weren’t so reverent, doing your best to focus on removing the last two sutures.
“A lioness - fierce and strong and brave and gorgeous.” He rambled before brushing a line of feather-light kisses up towards your jaw.
It made your heart ache with the longing to linger with this verbose version of him that had somehow been unleashed, but according to the clock above the door, you had to be on duty in two minutes.
“Ronald Speirs, you sweet talker.” You whispered weakly, setting down the tweezers, your task finally managed. “I hope you sleep well.”
“You know I will, thanks to you.” His eyes met yours warmly before he cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for one last searing kiss. “May I…write to you?” He asked, incongruously hesitant after all that had transpired.
Sliding your arms around his neck, you kissed his forehead. “You’d better. This lioness has claws.” You smirked in a playfully threatening manner, earning a broad grin in response.
————————————-
Band of Brothers Masterlist
Tag list: @bcon24 , @ronsparky
Post-script: Firstly, I agonized for several hours about whether or not to have Ron be married in this. Ultimately, after reading that Ronald Speirs asked his first wife not be mentioned in any way in the miniseries I decided to do the same here. Secondly, while I used a fake name for the Major who flew into Bastogne by glider, this is all based on real events that took place! I decided to use fictional characters here to justify the radical actions I had them take in bringing the reader, but you the story of Major Soutter and the men of the 12th Evacuation Hospital is really quite something!
#ronald speirs x reader#ron speirs x reader#ronald speirs fanfic#ronald speirs imagines#ronald speirs imagine#ronald speirs#ron speirs#band of brothers smut#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers imagines#band of brothers imagine#band of brothers
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hey could you maybe write about Speirs x civilian girl, where he is hiding in her shed and she comes in to grab something but then he’s there, at first she is scared cause she thinks he is the enemy
ahh my first ask, excitingg ✨✨
I'll be on my way
Ronald Speirs x fem!civilian!reader
Summary: there's a strange soldier in your home
Words: 860
You lived away from the chaos of the city, tucked away in peaceful nature. It was Thursday, you had just visited the market in town. Your hands were full as you dragged your bags across the hall to the kitchen.
How could’ve you been so lost in your thoughts? What could’ve possibly been so important? You can’t remember anymore. A sudden human silhouette in the corner of your eye made your blood run cold. You dropped the bags to the floor with a quiet thud. As he looked back at you, some surprise visible on his face as well, your body felt heavier than ever. You felt stuck in place.
You stared at each other for a few forever feeling seconds. Time had seemed to stop, since it didn’t matter anymore. Was this it?
Then, for a split second, he looked away from you to glance down at the scattered vegetables. This broke the spell, his eyes no longer holding you hostage. You sprinted out of the kitchen and back into the short hallway, rolling all the rugs on your way. He yelled something after you and tried grabbing you.
You reached for the rifle behind the front door. This was what it was there for, was it not? For men like him. For bad men who break into the homes of people who had never done anything bad to anyone. Your fingers curled around the walnut gun stock but no matter how quickly you could’ve managed to turn back around, he had already reached you. Try all you might, the long barrel of the gun couldn’t fit the narrow space between you, the side only smacking against his arm and the barrel pointing at the hallway behind him.
He had you pinned against the door, the rifle now pressed against your chest. You screamed at him, fingers still gripping tightly around the useless firearm.
”Stop, stop,” he hissed through his teeth, eyes dark and serious. You didn’t. Obviously. You tried shoving him back by pushing the stock of the gun further away from your own chest. An agitated grunt left your throat as he didn’t budge.
”Calm down,” he said, voice ever so slightly quiter but still with the same demanding tone. His eyes seemed glued to yours, ”I’ll be on my way soon. I’m not going to hurt you.”
You cursed at him in your native language and moved the rifle so your wrist wasn’t bent so painfully. “Stop it, will you?” He sighed, somewhere between frustration and annoyance, as his hands slid back from your shoulders to your shoulder blades.
The rifle was pressed against your chest, and his, as he pulled you into some form of a hug. You hated how quickly it made your body relax. The physical contact tricking your nervous system, making your muscles and thoughts ease. He pulled you a little tighter against him, probably feeling your shoulders drop in his arms.
“I’ll use the well in the backyard to fill my canteen and then be on my way,” He murmured into your hair before leaning back a little and looking you in the eyes, “Will you let me leave?” His eyes were still the same, but his tone was softer. He brought his hand on top of yours and lowered the rifle, before placing it to lean against the wall, where it had been, untouched, just a moment before.
He took a slow step backwards, his hands losing contact with you, now loosely raised and visible. He took another step back and opened the front door. Before he stepped out, he looked back at you, “I’ll be in the backyard for a moment and then I’ll leave.” He said, and as an afterthought, you heard the words, “Didn’t mean to scare, Miss,” from the crack of the door.
The door was now closed, but you stood still for another minute or two. You had just gone from fearing for your life to secretly hoping he’d hold you just a moment longer.
Finally, you walked back into the kitchen, trying to ignore that the house didn’t feel the same it had five minutes ago, and set your bags onto the table. You opened the cabinets he had been standing next to and with a sigh you noted a few cans missing. Could’ve been worse. You then picked up a couple vegetables from the floor before gathering the courage to carefully peek out of the small kitchen window. And there he was, hunched over the water pump as he filled his canteen with water.
With your still shaky hands, you creaked open the back door. His head instantly turned around as he saw movement. He kept using the water pump, but continued to glance up at you before noticing you were unarmed. “Hey,” He said as he screwed the cap close.
“Hello,” you responded and leaned against the doorframe. He attached the canteen to the side on his belt before looking back up at you. You were suddenly nervous again, trying to remind yourself why you were outside in the first place. “American?” You asked him and he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
You smiled shyly at him, “Hungry?”
masterlist
#band of brothers#ronald speirs#band of brothers fanfic#ron speirs#ronald speirs x reader#ron speirs x reader#band of brothers x reader#x reader
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Okay this is part 2 from this anon request, which one of my lovely followers asked if I could do in the comments @beautifulbluejay <3
Easy Boys x Reader Headcanons - How They React To You Going MIA.
It happened just before his leave to Paris, in fact the reason Nix pushes his leave so hard is because everybody genuinely thought you had gone.
So the trip to Paris isn’t exactly a leave for him, he’s alone and just thinking about you the whole time.
Grief stricken- nobody else knew about your relationship considering it was fraternisation, so he literally feels so alone.
This one’s a lil different- but you’d be completely lost and track Winters down in Paris, all you’d need to do is ask Lewis and he’d probs blabber mouth it to you- although he does think you’re a little crazy because you’ve just gone MIA in the middle of Europe for almost a week and now you’re wanting to travel to Paris.
Anyway you’d get to the correct place, despite having a slight cut on your forehead and grazed knees you’re physically fine- but you get caught up in a German hospital during your time lost and it’s mf scary. You’re so lucky you’re still alive.
You’d knock on the door (assuming it was his) and when he answers it he kinda cracks it open only slightly, and then rips the rest fully open and has a literal heart attack.
“Dick?!” Your voice cracks and you’re crashing into his chest before he can even fathom.
“You’re- you’re here- I?” He’s overwhelmed, wondering if he’s dreaming or not until his arms wrap tightly around you, feeling you cling onto dear life.
Once the shock has worn off and tears were shed Dick can’t let you go. He’s slightly dizzied with practically the shock of his life.
When you’re sleeping he keeps watching over you, checking you’re real.
He can’t do enough for you, gets you food water (ofc), checks over any wounds you have, really talks to you about it- like Dick out of all the men seems extremely emotionally intelligent, so he wants to make sure you’re really okay.
“Just tell me and I can send you somewhere safer…”
“I’d rather just be where you are.”
Lewis Nixon:
After he was supposed to jump into Berlin and he only just made it out of the plane, he turned up to see the explosion right before his eyes. The Germans were shooting down the planes- including the ones he knew you alongside so many other flight nurses and young men were on.
Not only had it gone terribly- now his trauma of knowing you’re potentially gone makes everything 10x harder.
He’d not been able to see you much throughout the war, you’re often stationed in different areas, but he always worried about you, and just then he was so close to you, yet still so far away- it pained Lewis.
Replays the moment over and over again in his head, drinks more and more and as the days pass and he receives no letter from you or your company or family- he knows the worst is coming.
Asks Dick if he should write a letter for your family- he was there after all. Dick informs him it’s probably best to wait until he’s found out what’s really happened to you.
But the silence was screaming at him- and every time be see’s a nurse in a uniform near him he grows restless.
He’s walking near the hospital one day, where he knows hundreds of the prisoners from the camp are being treated. He watches from afar as dozens more of them pile out of trucks and vans, some of them unable to walk- the rest of them still being treated inside the walls of the camp.
He turns away when he see’s the nurses, feeling overwhelmed by the grief until he hears a quick, “Lewis!”
He turns around so quick, dropping his cigarette when he’s stunned by the sound of your voice.
Seconds later you’re running towards him, grinning and giggling. He feels his chest squeeze tighter and he’s practically scurrying towards your direction to embrace you in the biggest hug of his lifetime.
Holy fuck. Lewis thinks. Holy fuck, fuck, fuck. Thank god.
His eyes close and he squeezes you tighter, hand pressing to the back of your head as he attempts to calm himself down whilst you cling onto him.
He very quickly pulls you towards his lips, kissing you deeply, so needily, he doesn’t care who see’s.
Both of you keep talking over the top of one another, excited to be in each others presence again.
“But I thought your plane went down?!” Lewis doesn’t notice until you hold his hands that he’s shaking.
“No, we turned back miles ago, it was too dangerous- oh I’m so glad you’re okay, I didn’t know what happened to you.”
The feeling is mutual, and even if you only get a night to spend together Lewis makes it all worthwhile.
Ron Speirs:
This man is tense asf from the second anything happens.
“What happened to the nurses?” His voice is quiet yet sharp and quick. His hand grabs at Nixon’s arm, urging him to answer immediately.
“Uh, I don’t know. They were in the hospital that got bombed, we’re not sure.” Lewis sighs out slowly, clearly affected by the trauma, but he has no idea about Ron and you.
Ron takes it upon himself to literally do anything he can in his power to find you- ofc he’s worried about everybody else, but the two of you have been together in private way back since before you were deployed. His hearts in his chest.
“We got them all sir, but one.”
“Y/l/n. Where’s Y/l/n?” He attempts to keep cool but his heart is thumping, he has the worst sickness and he can barely hold back how he’s feeling.
The man pauses and shakes his head. “Don’t know, sir.”
The whole company is obviously in grieving, this is when he’s still part of D-company but he’s in misery- he breaks only when he’s alone and in front of the men he keeps an even more tough exterior than ever.
Truthfully he’s hard to be around, he tries to push you to the back of his mind, trying his best to accept you’re gone and that’s it but he can’t.
He’s in the infirmary one day, after literally being shot in the ass- he almost can’t believe what’s going on and refuses to believe it’s true. Ron for the first time feels weak and useless.
“Can somebody help?! Please!” A frantic calling from a more than familiar voice cries out as he’s laid on his side in the bed, curtains closed around his area.
This is the first thing that causes him to move. Ignoring all soreness (he probs just blocks out the pain) he crawls out of bed at the sounds of scurrying and desperate shouting of the medical staff.
Ron could’ve sworn that was your voice, and when he stands, opening the curtains and staring straight at you, he thinks he’s seen a ghost.
He mutters your name so quietly, but you look up, face dirty and slightly bruised and bloodied, uniform dusty with a GI woollen jumper hanging over your frame. Like you’re just looking at each other.
“Excuse me, please.” You’d just tell the medical staff, hurrying your way down the hospital, weaving passed people until you’re stepping closer and closer.
Ron’s breathing and heart increases in a state of shock and you nudge him back in, yanking the curtain shut before you just engulf one another in a hug.
“Ron.” You’d mutter through tears, he grips you even tighter, engulfing your smaller body. “I was so scared, Ron.”
He pulls back your face, his eyes wide and stunned before holding either side of your face and pulling you in for a deep, borderline desperate kiss.
It’s the best comfort either of you have had in days, and once your lips part you fall back into his arms.
He’s probably lost for words for the first few minutes, and he’ll become all teary eyes for the first time in front of you.
“Are you okay? What happened to you?” He speaks for the first time, checking over you worriedly after remembering you must’ve been in that shelled out hospital
“There was Germans… I took a patient and ran away in the bombings. We got lost- we only just got back here now. I don’t know if he’s okay or not.”
All he can do is comfort you and hold you close, still in a state of disbelief.
“Why-why are you in here? What’s wrong?” You’d eventually ask. “I was shot.” Ron spoke in a blasé manner. He didn’t care about himself, only you.
“Where?”
… “my ass.”
Babe Heffron:
Hear me out, you’re a little bit clumsy yet always careful with everybody’s life but seemingly your own?
Like you’ve been at war for 8 months or so and still Babe worries that you’ve stumbled onto enemy lines just because you went to find a man’s boots or something.
He looks out for you and takes care of you so much, like it’s so so sweet and everybody’s aware that you’re Babe’s girl, even if you keep it more or less hidden out of respect for the fraternisation rules.
Anyway, you’re assigned to second platoon & that’s how you and Babe got close initially, the second nurse was sadly lost, and ever since then in Bastogne, Babe has been extra worried that something might happen to you.
It’s the day after Jackson passed and everybody’s exhausted, even though they’ll be moving off the line, they’re all sick of war.
“Hey anybody seen y/n?” He’d glance around the room where she’d usually be hanging out when she wasn’t at the aid station.
“She’s not at the aid station?” Joe would ask.
“No.” Babe would frown, pushing himself up and heading out.
He tries not to panic at first, but admittingly he has an anxiety nibbling away at the back of his mind.
Something just feels off, you’re not at CP, at the infirmary, with the other nurses, where you’re billeted.
“Babe!” One of the nurses shrieks in surprise as he bursts into the house they were stationed in.
“Sorry, sorry. Anybody seen y/n?” None of them have, not since the early afternoon and it was nearing 6. Your duty ended three hours ago.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
(Okay this isn’t as extreme as some of the other cases, I wanted to change it up a bit)
20 minutes later he’s chain smoking like crazy, asking all the guys where the hell you were.
“Babe? What’re you yapping about?” Your voice appears, giggling as he snaps his head, almost doing a 360.
At first relief floods through him, but then he see’s your helping a limping soldier, bleeding just below your eyebrow.
“Jesus- what the hell?!” His voice raised, breath stuck in his chest.
“A little help here, Babe?”
After hooking up under the other side of the wounded back, he helps you both back to the aid station firing questions a million miles an hour in your direction.
“I’m fine, Babe.” You’d soothe. “What happened?! Where th’ hell were ya?!” He’d take both your shoulders, holding his hand over the cut on your forehead, in an attempt to apply pressure.
“Babe-” you’d swat his hand away, becoming distracted with the sight behind you. Clearly you didn’t realise how worried he was.
“Ya shouldn’t run off like that!”
“Babe-”
“Ya got me worried sick!”
“Edward! His leg is crushed! Let me go help!”
“Edward?!”
“Wait here, alright? I’ll be 10 minutes.”
Babe waits, watching you help some of the other nurses and medics with the man you both carried inside, tending to what looked to be a badly wounded leg. He grimaced and turned away, growing an even more profound respect for you (if that was even possible).
When you’re done you head straight back to him. “Sorry, Babe, his leg was so-” You go to hold his arm but instead he turns, engulfing you in a bone crushing hug.
“I thought I’d lost ya, never do that again.”
Finally, you’d silence and realise just how worried he was. He was border lining upset, his frustration had dissolved and turned into pure relief.
“I’m okay.” You’d whisper, leading him to the quieter area of the porch.
“Where were ya?” He’d glance over you, checking head to toe everything was okay, hands still on your forearms.
“I went to get some supplies, then I found him- his leg was stuck under rubble. I couldn’t just leave him.”
“What ‘bout ya head?”
“I knocked myself in the face, you know what I’m like.”
“Oh thank god, ya scared me, angel.”
Ugh he’s such a sweetheart, just apologise to him and promise you won’t do that again without telling him.
#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers#ron speirs x reader#band of brothers imagines#band of brothers headcanons#dick winters x reader#lewis nixon x reader#babe heffron x reader
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Hello Doll! New fan here! You're so precious! 🥰 we NEED pt 2 of BoB "Sleeping with them for the first time", my request: Speirs, Toye, Eugene, Webster, Buck. AND pls wrote more Lovetropes! I've read it so many times, that I can quote from memory! xoxo
A/n this might be dirtier than pt1. Will do a pt 2 of love tropes ofc. Lmk if you have some people in mind for that
<3
-this is a work of fiction based on the actors portrayal only. Every ounce of respect to the real heros-
Warning: NSFW, plain sinful smut. Lots of language. Minors dni
Masterlist
Ronald Speirs
- this man will change your whole perspective of sex afterwards. You've both been pinning each other for a while and decide to go on a date. Yet the whole time you both have been practically removing each other's clothes with your eyes. Lingering touches, flirty behavior. Lets just say that you didn't quite make it through all the courses before Speirs asked for the check. You make it back to his place before he immediately kisses you. You start removing clothes while grabbing and feeling any skin you can both get your hands on. He turns you around to unzip your dress, taking it off your figure. He spun you back around to pick you up and set you down on the kitchen counter. You remove his belt and tug at his pants and boxers until the both of you are head to toe naked. He gives you a looks off 'are you sure' you nod yes before he lifts you legs up and fucks you. Praise after praise, surface after surface. It's a wild ride.
"Fuck you feel so good you know that princess?"
Joe toye
-he's sweet and spontaneous. It's a similar experience to George luz where it happens after a few dates. It starts slow, careful almost. But eventually you melt under him. He kisses you harder, Backs you to a wall. You remove each other's shirts. His hands unclips your bra. He makes hickies after hickies up and down your neck. He picks you up and brings you to the bedroom. Kisses down to your skirt to take that off as well. This man would love to praise you. And his voice!? He will mutter the most downright bad into your ears. He could make you come from just that alone. I feel like he's big on moaning you know. Your make him feel so good he's going to let you know that. Will do anything you ask him to do. You want him to touch you. He's instantly rubbing your clit, you want him to suck you Titts, he'll do that too. Fuck you harder and faster. He'll break the mattress. Will make you finish at least twice. Once on his cock. Then he'll clean you up with his tongue. But he is sooo sweet with the after care.
"God I wish you could see yourself right now doll. Getting fucked properly"
Eugene roe
-he's honestly a little nervous. He doesn't want to hurt you. It starts back at your place. Some wine after a good home cooked dinner. The alcohol helps with confidence. It's slow and passionate. He would be completely fine with kissing you for hours on end. But you've had one too many dirty dreams about this man so it's now or never. Eugene will be so great with foreplay. Makes you feel worshiped like no man has ever made you feel before. Always checking to make sure you're ok. When it gets time to really dance if you know what I mean he's super scared that something is going to go wrong. This poor man. You are so worked up from his touch that you have to tell him to just shut up and fuck you. It's like a switch goes off in his head. And the only thing he can suddenly think of is you. He fucks you until the only thing you can think of, only thing you can scream is his name. He robs you of every last breath in your lungs. It's dirty, passionate, sweaty and oh so good. Best God damn orgasm of your life. When you both finish and clean up. He definitely raps you up in his arms.
"Thank you"
"For what?"
"Giving me the best dick of my life"
David Webster
-HERE ME OUT! One bed trope. But it's not at a hotel or anything. You head to his place, have dinner, watch a movie, whatever. Oh no it's dark and raining. How about you stay the night? Oh crap this is a one bed apartment. You get the point. He offers you the bed and he'll sleep on the couch but you say that's silly and to just share the bed. Webster already had a huge crush on you so his ears turn a bright red, but how can he turn down the offer to share a bed with you? You get ready and both go to bed. It's awkward at first until he breaks the silence with one of those deep questions and you start talking for hours. One thing leads to another and he's on top of you. He kisses you until you lose your mind. You run your hands up his bare chest until you reach the stubble on his face. You slowly remove each article of clothing on the both of you. The air is thick and warm. Can you imagine how feral this man will go if you praise him. This man just wants some love ok? He asks you how sure you are about this, not wanting to cross any boundaries. You agree enthusiastically. You tug at his hair. Run your hands down his back. He kisses your neck, holds your waist. He's so gentle with aftercare too. From here on out you stay the night more often.
"Just like that web don't stop, so good, you're so good"
"Fuck sweetheart you're gunna make me come"
Buck Compton
-I know this is sorta cliché but fire sex. It's around the holidays. It's cold, snowing and dark outside. Inside it's warm, cozy and comfortable. You are still in puppy love faze. It's sweet. You are both on the couch blanket on top. Fire crackling. Buck reading you a book. You have thought about it a lot, sex. Yet you've never really got there. Steamy makeout sessions. Been there and done that. But it hasn't made it farther than that. But gooood you want it to. Your hands wander over him. Getting more and more close south each time. You rub his thigh, testing the waters. You can tell he notices by how his adams apple moves. You slowly undo his belt as he continues to read the book. He lets you pull his jeans down and slowly remove him from his boxers. You move your hand tauntingly slow. Not moving any faster in hopes of riling him up. He puts the book down and pulls you up to his lips. He removes your shirt and bra. Flips you over to remove your pants and underwear. He's sweet and confident in each move he makes. He kisses up and down your inner thigh until he finally makes it to the center. He gives you a taste of your own medicine. Slowly keeping you on edge with his tongue until you beg him to fuck you. And he does just that. It's better than you could have ever imagined.
"For fucks sake buck if you don't get up here and dick me down"
#band of brothers#band of brothers fanfic#band of brothers headcanon#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers smut#ron speirs x reader#joe toye x reader#eugene roe x reader#david webster x reader#buck compton x reader
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heyyy love ur stuff btw! Could you maybe do hc’s of how our boys when someone is being mean to the reader? Thanks ;)) Maybe like a modern AU? Or any AU you’d prefer, thank you!
Aaaaaaaa thank you for the ask friend!! I love this idea!!! So I pictured this in a Modern!AU where the pair is at a coffee shop waiting on their order. The Boy puts his arm around them and the person next to them just sneers and goes “Can y’all get a room? Or at least be with someone nice to look at?” OBVIOUSLY referring to y/n with just a palpable amount of spite and venom.
Dick Winters
I see him just hugging you tighter and maybe turning his back to the guy, like, if he's gonna be an ass about Dick's favorite person he doesn't deserve the time of day. He'd say something so sweet too like, “if you think anyone could be more beautiful than them, you need to get your eyes checked,” before planting a kiss on your cheek and grabbing your drinks.
Lewis Nixon
I can see him definitely getting irritated but also seeming kinda baffled? Like I can see him just saying something like, “Are you serious right now? You see how gorgeous they are, right? Who hurt you, man?” Like he’d be so genuine about it too, even scoffing and shaking his head while y’all walk out with your drinks - like, how tf can someone say that about the most perfect human on earth???
Ron Speirs
I have a strong feeling that the guy’s words leave his mouth before he saw Ron, because I just imagine the dude being Christianson in Bastogne, like, he see’s Speirs’ face and just feels as though he has Met His End. So all Speirs does is put his arm around you and say, “you wanna try that again?” the guy just stutters and replies, “you make a lovely couple,” before scurrying away. I can soooo see Ron just having a smug smile on his face before giving you a kiss.
Harry Welsh
Ok so considering this man got demoted from sergeant to private three (3) different times due to getting in fights I have a feeling he would just be like “OH ITS THAT KINDA PARTY HUH? YOU WANNA TRY SAYING THAT AGAIN ASSHOLE??” Like this dude could be twice Harry’s size but your Boy can and will throw hands to defend you and he’s not afraid to get hurt while doing it. 10/10 needs you to help with his bruised knuckles after but he apologizes and y’all enjoy your drinks (specifically savoring it because y’all got banned from the coffee shop).
Eugene Roe
I feel like this could go two ways - A) he tells the guy off (“why don’t you mind your business asshole”), holds you close to him, and grabs your drinks without saying a word, or B) he grabs you by the waist and just goes to town trying to merge your mouths into one. This man would just do everything in his power to put on display his love and passion for you. Soon enough the dude will get weirded out and leave, but not before Doc performs award-winning CPR.
Bill Guarnere
Oh boy we got Party Boy #2 over here. “Why don’t you shut ya yap before I shut it for ya?” Your mans would square up to the dude no questions asked. If the dude steps down, Bill would just say, “yeah, that’s what I thought,” before proudly putting his arm around you. If the dude makes a poor decision and steps up to Guarnere… next thing you know poor Bill is apologizing to you while you hold his cold brew up to his black eye to keep the swelling down… the dude apologized though! All thanks to Ol’ Gonorrhea.
Joe Toye
I feel like his reaction is betwixt Guarnere and Nixon. Like, for one thing, he’s genuinely confused. He just gives the dude his classic Eyebrows before pulling you close to him. At first he won’t say anything, but if the dude keeps going he’ll just say to him in a low voice, “you looking for a fight pal?” Honestly that would be enough to scare the dude away while Joe just hugs you tight and kisses your temple before the barista calls your names.
George Luz
This boy would twist the dude’s words perfectly. “Oh you’re absolutely right, they could get someone WAY hotter than me!” before smirking over at you. You can’t help but give George a playful smack on the chest before laughing with him and laying your head on his shoulder… then he’d totally just look at you and think “how’d I get so lucky???” we love a silly soft boi
Joe Liebgott
Fighty Boy #3 and you can’t tell me otherwise. It’d be similar to Guarnere on the ship - he’d have to make sure he heard the dude right at first… “What’d you just say?” like you can feel his angy levels rising by the second. The dude just goes, “you heard me,” and before anyone can even blink the dude is knocked out on the ground, like, the swifest punch known to man and it came from your boyfriend (kinda hot ngl) and you just give him a Look before he smirks and kisses the air from your lungs and… why were you mad at him again? And why are you getting thrown out of the cafe???
Floyd Talbert
Ok so remember how Roe gave you life-saving CPR? Tab’s first instinct is life-taking CPR, like, this man just glares at the dude before pulling you close by your waist (and maybe a hand on your ass because its Tab) and just going to TOWN on your lips, neck, wherever he can reach just to show the idiot dude how in love with you he is and how stupid he was to make that comment… of course instinctively your hands to Tab’s hair and y’all just get Lost in the Sauce and when the barista calls y’all’s names you don’t even hear them.
Shifty Powers
Asdf sweet baby angel would just hold you close and whisper to you, “I’m sorry you had to hear that, you don’t believe him right?” Just keeping all his attention on you and hugging you close with both arms just lovingly wrapped around you, both of y’all forget everything else exists and you just happily hold each other for a bit before you get your drinks (this is all unless shifty has his rifle then the dude’s Time Has Come courtesy of Darrell C. Powers).
ngl this might've been the most fun I've had writing something 🤣 Thank you again for the ask love!! Hope you have a wonderful day!
#ask#anon#my writing#help emily write#emily shut up#band of brothers#band of brothers fanfic#band of brothers x reader#BoB#hbo#hbo war#easy company#richard winters#dick winters#dick winters x reader#lewis nixon#lewis nixon x reader#ronald speirs#ron speirs#ron speirs x reader#harry welsh#harry welsh x reader#eugene roe#gene roe#doc roe#eugene roe x reader#william guarnere#bill guarnere#ol' gonorrhea#bill guarnere x reader
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Would you guys be interested in Band of Brothers fics? Like Eugene Roe, Ron Speirs, Bill Guarnere. Would that be something you guys would like?
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hi! i really love your writings!
i was wondering if you could make some headcannons for the easy boys breaking down and turning to the reader for comfort after a super hard week.
if you don’t wanna do this one/can’t think of anything, it’s totally fine!
i hope you’re doing well!
This has been sitting in my drafts forever now. I was worried about too many of them being too similar, so I didn't get to everybody. But here are the ones that I had the strongest feelings about:
Dick Winters: Okay, so I feel like maybe Winters doesn't quite reach a breaking point. You can tell that he's stressed and that he's going through a lot, so you let him know that you're here if he needs someone to talk to. It's actually kind of a shock when he comes to you, asking if you have a moment. Really, he just needs to unload, to have someone listen to him. It would be such a relief for him to know he can do that with you, and for you to know that he trusts you enough to confide in you.
Lewis Nixon: Nixon tends to go a different way. When he's stressed or upset, he kind of shuts down, becoming somewhat emotionally unavailable. He knows that he can - and that he should - go to you, but he's worried about how you'll react. When he does turn to you, when you listen to him, comfort him through what he's going through, he feels ten times lighter and ready to take on the world with you by his side.
Ronald Speirs: The rest of the company would probably be shocked if they knew how easily Speirs comes to you. It starts with him resting his head against your shoulder once you're alone together, and then sighing when you run a hand through his hair. He trusts you and knows he's safe, and then confides everything in you. There's not much that can be done to fix the week he's had, but if you just hold him like this, it'll give him the strength to pick himself up and give it another shot.
Carwood Lipton: He's so busy taking care of everyone, but who takes care of him? He's not really one for showing when he's at his limit, so when he comes to you, you know that he's reached a breaking point. Just let him talk it out. Maybe you both come up with a solution for where to go from here. Maybe you don't. He's just thankful for your company as he goes through this.
Babe Heffron: You know in Bastogne, how after Julian's death Babe just sort of . . . shuts down for a bit? That would be him after this week. He's stressed and doesn't really know how to process whatever is going on. When he comes to you, he's probably quiet and careful. But as soon as you see something is wrong, you take his hand, and he feels like he's able to tell you anything.
Eugene Roe: He feels guilty coming to you, because he doesn't want to feel like he's forcing his problems onto you. Once he starts sharing what's wrong, though, it's hard to stop; he didn't realize how much all of this was weighing on him. And when he's done talking, when you hold him and promise him that you'll always be there for him and will help him through it, he's glad that he spoke up.
Bill Guarnere: This boy is gonna hold it all in until he can't anymore - and when he finally breaks, it probably isn't going to be pretty. He doesn't know how to tell you what's wrong, but he decides to try. Some things can't always be fixed; sometimes you just need someone to listen to you. And knowing that he can confide in you makes all the difference to him, even if that's all you can do to help. Now he doesn't have to push himself to the limit anymore, and that makes all the difference.
Joe Liebgott: Listen, I think Joe is better with emotions than we tend to give him credit for. If he's bottling them up throughout the week, it's just because he doesn't want to worry you too much - after all, he loves you, and he doesn't want to feel like he's being a burden. When he finally does turn to you for help, he feels bad the entire time he's explaining his emotions to you. He's going to have to learn that he can open up to you, and this is his first time realizing that he can come to you when he needs to.
David Webster: Either bottles up his emotions until he feels like he's going to explode, or he comes to you the second he feels like he needs to talk things through - there's no in between. This may comes as a surprise, but Webster is a great listener, and if you give him advice or comfort for whatever he's going through, he's going to take it to heart. And he'll always remember how you were there for him.
Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you like these! 💕🕊️
#writer's block really took over on this one oopsies#band of brothers#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers head canon#band of brothers headcanon#dick winters#dick winters x reader#lewis nixon#lewis nixon x reader#ron speirs x reader#ron speirs#carwood lipton x reader#carwood lipton#david webster x reader#david webster#joseph liebgott#joseph liebgott x reader#joe liebgott x reader#joe liebgott#bill guarnere x reader#bill guarnere#eugene roe x reader#eugene roe#babe heffron#babe heffron x reader#my writing
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when you get hurt hcs [officers + roe]
a/n: requested <3 usually in my writing the reader is implied to be a part of easy company in a vague way bc i know ppl have different preferences but some of these include getting shot (not graphic or anything) so ig that implies they're on the front lines
lmk if you would like to be on my taglist! @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck
[dick winters]
you hit your head prettyyyy hard, and you're out of it, probably definitely concussed
it happens right in front of dick and he tries really hard to keep calm
he wants to be strong and level-headed for you
shows more obvious affection then any of the men have ever seen from him; pets your hair, holds your hand, is always by your side
he immediately gets you a medic and transported to an aid station and doesn’t want to leave you
but when dick's back with easy, he gets uncharacteristically easily angry and frustrated...
he gets quiet and withdrawn and a little snappy with zelensky and nix... and they both immediately know why
whenever he can go see you, he's there.. he even gets behind on all his paperwork (but nix offers to help)
which dick is hesitant to accept for many reasons, he feels guilty, like he's not focusing on his duties but lew is always good at keeping the reports concise lol
very fragile with you, he isn't underestimating you but he just absolutely does not want to push you or hurt you
is a stickler for the rules, follows absolutely everything the doctor says
he has to wake you up every few hours and you keep insisting it’s unnecessary and dick is absolutely not having it
you try to get up and move around and all dick has to hear is the sheets moving and he just gives you that stare, a little bit like a disappointed mom, and you're right back laying down
he’s way more clingy than usual, wants to be by your side, subtly holding your hand
in that moment it definitely hits him how much he loves and cares about you... he hasn't really had time or space to process those feelings until now <3
[lewis nixon]
it does not look good at first
it's really scary for everyone there, you loose a lot of blood and lose consciousness
lew is not there when you're first shot in the leg and everyone is very glad that he didn't have to see it
but when he finds out... oh he is not keeping cool, is not pretending even a little bit to be okay
starts lashing out and snaps at the driver who's taking him to the hospital to drive faster, mad that they didn't tell him sooner, mad that you were injured, mad at the war, furious at absolutely everything
lew has to be monitored by dick not to go full self destruction mode and get incredibly drunk
he hates just sitting with the constant uncomfortable feeling and reminder that you're hurting
he will not leave your side at first when you’re sleeping a lot, on a lot of medicine, and out of it
one nurse does approach him when he's the only vistor in the hospital left, "sir, the visiting hours-"
he just looks up, obviously devastated, voice cracking, "i'm can't leave. you can drag me out but i'm not going, thanks."
they back off after that
does go through a phase where he hates going once you're more conscious because he kills him to see you like that and face this feels irrational guilt he feels for not being there
because he definitely has the tendency to avoid his problems and things that hurt him
but it hurts you too and you don't fully understand
you look up at dick and harry, slightly delirious from the morphine, tearing up, "does he not want to see me anymore?"
after that they do drag lew to see you and you just straight up tell him feeling guilty is pointless and not fair to himself (or you)
and then it's right back to not leaving your side and always trying to make you laugh or smile
[ron speirs]
okay so i love the angel of the company x speirs trope
by now he's the co of easy and your relationship is a widely known secret...
he assigns you and the group of other men to a patrol... it wasn't an overly risky or bad order, a standard order from sink
but you guys make contact and you're shot in the arm
it just absolutely wrecks him
the guys feel like he's just going to go across enemy lines and find the soldier that shot you himself
the rest of the guys are furious too because everyone just absolutely loves you
for a short time, he's mad at the other soldiers on the patrol and you have to reminder him they didn't do anything wrong
but ron is really just irrationally mad at himself for not being there, for not being psychic, he's just angry he somehow didn't stop this
ron is not controlling and not possessive and he knows you can hold your own but he feels responsible for taking care of you and making sure you're safe
even if he can't quite articulate all of those feelings yet
he doesn't understand all the emotions he feels and doesn't even have time to try to understand them
he listens so attentively to the doctors, he can recite everything they've said word for word
like with chuck, he demands the absolute best from the doctors
this incident shows his more compassionate side and the guys start to see how much he really cares about you... bc they're protective of you too!
you have to comfort him and his voice breaks
and he feels weak and he feels bad that you're comforting him and not the other way around
"i'm messing everything up, doing everything wrong," he says more to himself but you frown, eyebrows furrowed and everything
"you're so hard on yourself, ron. when it's not your fault, it was routine, you didn't shoot me. then i'd be really pissed." you smile and he smiles weakly... but he's on edge for a longgg time after this
[carwood lipton]
unfortunately you and lip just cannot catch a break
your leg gets injured while he has pneumonia
it's not a major injury but a bullet ricocheted off of a wall and slightly grazed you and you need a few days of staying off of it
lip really tries to be comforting
and wants to be there for you and he is!
but it's very hard for him, he just wants you to be okay so badly, even when he himself isn't okay
trying to lecture you about staying off of your leg and asking others for help but breaking out into a coughing fit and then you're trying to help him sit up and to go get some hot water for him
and then he's back to telling you to stop and starts hoarsely calling for luz
it's a MESS
but carwood is a natural caretaker and has been one for most of his life
it makes him hover sooo badly especially because since he's sick too he doesn't have a lot of work to keep him busy
but you're not complaining honestly, it's nice to have more private time and something of a break, even if you're both miserable
you get the special privilege of an actual private back bed room with a mattress and blankets
kind of a bonding experience
you just laugh because what the fuck
it's kind of romantic, first time in a longgg time in an actual bed together
you just go back and forth talking about your future and the life you want after the war
"i don't like this wallpaper," you murmur into his chest
he laughs and that turns into coughing again and you're just rubbing his back trying not to bend your leg... domestic bliss <3
[buck compton]
buck... does not take it well
he takes it extremely hard
like his reaction to joe and bill...
you have pneumonia and the peniciln you need isn't available in bastogne
and it's even worse that he finds out you're sick only a few hours after that and that you've been sick and struggling for the past few days
maybe his reaction would've been different earlier on in the war
but now, it just feels like a destructive domino effect that's sparing no one
it's obvious after all of his friends injuries and your pneumonia that he couldn't stay on the front line... his red bleary eyes and slightly trembling hands said enough
when he gets taken off the line, you're both in an aid station together for a few hours before you're both transferred to different hospital
so his presence is silent reassurance
you want so badly to comfort him but you're so sick and he doesn't want you to, he feels so guilty leaving you
but you hoarsely tell him he needs a break and to process what happened
you're feeling slightly better this day so that makes it a little better... but not that much
both of you have been through hell
but there is a light in the tunnel... or at least you feel that way
buck isn't on the front lines anymore and you both have a chance at a life together post-war
he does not want to leave you, it has to take a lot of malarkey's coaxing him and promising to update buck
[eugene roe]
gene can't decide if having medical knowledge makes it better or worse
and if being the medic and being the one to have their hands covered in the your blood, was better than leaving it in the hands of someone else
he decides it's awful... definitely worse
the very few hours he slept, it was just dreaming of your terrified face
and he wakes with a jolt and is completely miserable
and life just goes on...
a lot of pacing and murmuring
gene closes in on himself when he's upset and stressed, so he becomes even quieter than normal
and the other guys are worried like ??? do we need to intervene and lip just stops them, "leave him alone, he'll be okay."
prays for you a lot, gripping his rosary so tightly and the photo that he has of the two of you when you were still in england
when you both felt some semblance of normalcy
he can't abandon the company to stay with you full time at the aid station to his incredible frustration and disappointment
it's just hard for him to go on like everything's fine, it shatters whatever illusion he has of fairness and hope and safety
whenever someone else gets injured or they need supplies, he'll take any excuse to ride back to the aid station to see you
and if anyone else goes, they always see you and give gene an update
winters definitely notices and tries to give him opportunities to see you
likes watching you rest and sleep (because you definitely needed it, even before you got injured) in the sweetest, non-creepy way
gene loves to just sit with you, see you with his own eyes, and know for certain that you're okay
#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers headcanon#band of brothers imagine#dick winters x reader#lewis nixon x reader#carwood lipton x reader#ron speirs x reader#buck compton x reader
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SOMEONE WRITE THIS RON SPEIRS FIC RN
#dano speaks#ronald speirs#ronald speirs x reader#ron speirs x reader#band of brothers#ron speirs#band of brothers hbo
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Band of Brothers x soulmate au
screw it, i'm doing a soulmate au x band of brothers series. if there is anything specific y'all want...let me know but already have the metaphorical lightbulb flashing above my head (thank you @softguarnere for my swimming thoughts, everyone go read her Webster soulmate au it's *chefs kiss*)
#i'm maniacally cackling#be prepared#these won't all be fluff but most will#band of brothers#band of brothers x reader#joe toye x reader#ronald speirs#band of brothers fanfic#band of brothers fluff#ronald speirs x reader#ron speirs x reader#carwood lipton x reader#george luz x reader#dick winters x reader#lewis nixon x reader#shifty powers x reader#joe liebgott x reader#so on and so forth
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rumors and gossip (ronald speirs x nurse! reader smut)
summary: (takes place around episodes 2 and 3) ronald speirs has trouble expressing his feelings towards you. when he catches wind that you're spreading rumors about him, he gets upset and doesn't exactly know why. but there's only one way he knows how to solve this issue: through action.
word count: 3100+
warnings: SELF-INDULGENT SMUT, reader has female genitalia, abuse of authority (read: speirs likes getting called by his title), degradation, praise, spitting, unprotected sex ("remember boys...flies spread disease, so keep yours closed!"), spanking, rough p in v sex, facefucking, fingering, orgasm denial, mentions speirs being taller than reader for like one second, SOFT SPEIRS AT THE END BC HE HAS A LIL CRUSH
notes: i see your soft speirs and i love him too, but i raise you mean dom speirs (both can exist at once). also i'm sorry in advance
Ronald Speirs didn't know what to make of you.
You, the pretty nurse he kept staring at whenever he’d catch a glimpse of you around base. You, who he often observed diligently treating the many men that came under your care. You, who sometimes met his gaze from across the post with a bashful smile before turning away.
One could say that within Ron, something was brewing towards you. Something that made his heart skip a beat in a manner he hadn't expected war to allow at all. As of recently, however, you began to elicit different feelings in him.
Ron was well-aware of all the rumors and gossip being spread about him. He wasn't oblivious to the fearful way the men looked at him, or, rather, preferred to not look at him. The more people who viewed him as a mean son of a bitch the better, he thought. So he let them circulate without much care, with only a dead glare that reinforced them.
When he heard that you were helping pass on those rumors, telling anyone in need of a good story about how Ronald Speirs, or as he had heard, “Lieutenant Sparky”, had heartlessly killed German POWs after offering them smokes or how he put down one of his own men for being drunk on duty— he was upset. This mystified him: why was he annoyed (or was troubled a better word for his feelings?) when you gossiped and not when any of his men did? It couldn't be that he secretly yearned for your approval; that seemed foolish, too unlike himself…but then again, you made him feel unlike himself on several occasions before.
Ron was a man of action, and he was going to ensure you induced no more bothersome feelings within him by simply giving you something to gossip about.
-
It was late at night when you found yourself alone in the medical station. Every wounded soldier had been relocated to another facility either on base or out of it entirely for some reason or another, leaving you with a number of empty hospital beds and an entire station to yourself. You had told the other nurses to pack in for the night and that you would tidy up by yourself; you didn't mind having something to do while it was finally tranquil in the hospital.
While you replaced bedsheets, you remembered Ronald Speirs glowering at you earlier that day, rather than his usual intense, unreadable stare. You hoped it wasn't because he found out that you were spreading rumors about him, but you suspected it was; really, you had overheard a Private Malarkey talking about Speirs’ supposed actions to a fellow soldier he was visiting, and several more soldiers had told you similar stories about Speirs as you tended to them. When your other patients asked you if you had heard anything juicy, what else were you supposed to tell them?
Behind you was a click of the door opening and closing and a gush of wind, nearly imperceptible enough to keep you in your musing. Expecting to see another nurse or perhaps a soldier who had somehow gotten himself injured in the middle of the night, you turned around and felt your eyebrows raise when you saw the man in question, half-shrouded in darkness by how the moonlight fell upon him.
Still dressed in his fatigues, he stalked over to you with slow, steady steps. He towered over your form, his eyes almost completely covered in the shadow beneath his helmet. The slightest glint you could see of them was cold, and you could almost feel his leer pierce through you. You had never realized his height from all those times you saw him from afar; you’d noticed his good looks instead, though you never wanted to admit that to yourself. Not about the soldier you were spreading such heinous rumors about.
“Lieutenant Speirs?” Your words came out more unsure than you would've liked. You didn’t even know why you were nervous; it's not like you'd done anything particularly wrong— nothing that dozens of men weren’t also doing as well. “Do you need me for something?”
A suffocating silence pervaded the room. For the moment that he didn't respond, instead fixing you with a stony glare, your heart stopped beating in anticipation. You half-expected him to materialize a gun and shoot you on the spot until he finally broke the silence and said blandly, “I've heard you've been spreading rumors about me.”
When you didn’t answer immediately, he stepped closer to you. Willing yourself not to flinch away, you could now fully see the cruel look in his eyes; it didn't help your uneven breathing or your clenched heart.
“Have you?”
You blanched, mouth going dry. “...Yes, sir.”
He tilted his head, carrying on in that unemotional yet somehow soft tone. “Our good little nurse is the one gossiping, huh? That right?”
You furrowed your eyebrows. Good little nurse? “I, uh—”
“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice hardening. His calloused fingers reached for you, clenching your cheeks so tight together that your jaw could not move to form words. You slurred your words like a drunk trying to give an intelligible answer.
“Pathetic,” he scoffed. Your eyes widened, and, shamefully, you felt heat rush to your core. Speirs noticed your surprise, and you were sure you weren't hallucinating a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You wanna tell me what you've been saying about me, nurse?”
You could only mumble in response. “What, too scared to say it in front of Sparky himself? I heard you were running your mouth earlier, though.”
You shook your head and uselessly struggled in his unyielding grasp. Bastard.
Gazing down at you for another tense heartbeat, Speirs let go of your face and took off his helmet, placing it on a nearby metal table and revealing his slightly tousled hair. “Get on your knees. Let’s put that mouth to good use.”
Your blood went cold, yet your body felt hot. You must've looked shocked because he sighed and looked at you expectantly.
“Well? Don't keep an officer waiting.”
You blinked dumbly. He gave a command. Who were you to disobey? You thought as you sunk down to your knees, your skirt acting as a barrier between your skin and the rough floor.
“That's what I like to see.” He began unbuckling and unzipping his pants before pulling out his erect member, standing tall, girthy, and swollen at the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight.
Again, you hesitated, looking up at him in disbelief at what was happening. You never expected to be kneeling in front of Ronald Speirs; maybe in the darkest recesses of your mind you fantasized about the Lieutenant doing whatever he pleased to you, but you never expected it to actually happen.
“Nurse, open your mouth now before I take your face and start fucking it.”
You clenched your thighs at the thought, opening your mouth to take his cock in it. You kissed the tip and licked a stripe from the base to the end before slowly enveloping it with your mouth. Ron shuddered at the feeling and put his hand in your hair, petting it with a whispered curse —perhaps he had thought about this exact scenario as much as you had?
You continued to swallow his cock whole as his hand tightened in your hair. You whimpered at the sensation, sending vibrations to his member. He stuttered your name out in response.
As you sped up your steady pace, you looked up at him from underneath your eyelashes, watching as he lost his composure, his chest heaving. “Shit…that's my girl. You're even prettier with your mouth full of my dick. Can't yak as much, can you, nurse?”
A moan slipped out at the unexpected praise, and you let your legs part as you slipped your hands between them and rubbed yourself through your soaked panties, adrenaline coursing through your veins. When Ron’s eyes focused themselves again, he caught the movement and his eyes darkened, no longer glazed over.
“Who said you could touch yourself, nurse?” he gritted out, as if his cock didn't twitch in your mouth at the sight of you pleasuring yourself. The hand in your hair clenched into a fist, but that didn't discourage you; instead, your hand went faster as he started pulling your mouth off his cock and slamming it back in at a punishing rate. You felt drool trickling down your chin, your throat burning. You greedily breathed in air during the brief respites he granted you before brutally shoving his dick down your throat.
When your eyes stopped rolling to the back of your head, you took in his disheveled state and rubbed yourself faster. His hair messy from running his hand through it, his face and a sliver of his chest gleaming with sweat, his barely suppressed deep groans. He looked heavenly compared to his actions.
Abruptly, you were pulled off his cock and placed on your back on the metal table next to his helmet. He hurriedly unbuttoned your nurse uniform, damn near ripping your clothes off of you and throwing them carelessly next to you, until you were bare before him. The cold table chilled your spine, and you arched your back into his wandering hands. In your lust-filled daze, you managed an indignant thought of how unfair it was that you were the only one naked, that his body was being left up to the imagination.
“You ready for me, girl?” He rubbed your clit in tight circles, better than you could've done yourself and better than you could've ever imagined at night, before gauging your wetness with two long fingers plunged deep into your heat.
“That wet from a little roughness?” he smirked. “Our little nurse isn't so innocent after all. Maybe that's why you spread all those rumors about me. You wanted this.”
“N-no, sir—” You gasped, cut short as his fingers quickly found that spongy place within you. You cried out for air as he relentlessly pressed against it with every movement. “That’s, mmh, not true…”
“Can’t understand you, nurse. Can you repeat that?” He said, voice tinged with smug amusement.
Closing your eyes tight, you could only whimper in pitiful reply as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. So close to the precipice of sweet release, you could almost feel yourself stepping off—
But before you could, Speirs pulled his fingers away. You eyes shot open to gape at him in irritation until you saw him slowly bring his slick-coated fingers to his lips and suck them off.
“Did you really think I'd let a little gossiping whore like you come so easily?” He fixed you with a remorseless, sadistic look. You panted, desperation festering within you as he forced your mouth open and spat in it. “Now swallow, and I'll fuck you like you deserve it, nurse.”
You swallowed obediently, yearning for his cock inside you. In an uncharacteristic display of softness, he pressed his lips to yours and whispered against them, “Good girl,” before switching back to the Speirs you knew and roughly flipping your body over so you were bent over the metal table, your tits flush with the frigid surface and your ass on full display to the Lieutenant.
Speirs took a moment to run his hands over your body, grabbing and squeezing at the flesh of your breasts, ass, and thighs, spreading your juices around your sensitive pussy as you tried to wiggle away, overstimulated. Holding your hips so you wouldn't move, he grinded his dick against your heat and teased your hole, his precum mixing with yours. Just as you were about to whine for him to stop teasing and fuck you already, he seemed to grown impatient himself because he slid into you in one fluid motion, punching the air out of your lungs and forcing your walls to stretch around him and accommodate his size.
“Fuck, so tight for me,” he grunted out, his voice hoarse as if it had taken away his breath as well. After a moment of heavy breathing and a squeeze of your hips, he began brutally pummeling into you. You unabashedly let out a high-pitched moan at the pace, and you felt his cock throb inside of you as his name left your lips.
“Quiet, nurse. You want the whole base to know?” he said, out of breath, “Guess that'll give you another story to tell about me, yeah?”
You wanted to rebut this, saying that the lewd slapping noises of skin on skin that filled the room were probably spilling out through the thin walls of the station anyway. Instead, you heaved a breathy, “Yes, Lieutenant,” that had him growling and picking up the pace, your body moving with every thrust. He took your hands, which until then were gripping the table for dear life, and held them together at the wrist with one of his.
The hand still gripping your hip was so firm you felt it was going to leave bruises in the morning. The more pressing issue, though, was how you were going to walk the next day.
“All you needed was some good dick in you to shut you up, huh? What a dirty girl,” he groaned as you clenched around him, “And here I thought you were all innocent, nurse. You wanted this, didn't you? Say it.”
Your cheeks burned red out of embarrassment, and you floundered for words. “N-no, Ron, that’s not—”
You were interrupted by the resounding smack of his hand colliding with your ass and the stinging pain that brought tears to your eyes. Your hands twitched in his grasp.
“When you talk to an officer, you say ‘sir’. Understood?”
“Y-yes, sir,” you breathed out, and he tenderly rubbed the aching skin of your ass, calling you a good girl as he resumed pounding into you. Your heart ached at the praise.
In your fucked-out state where all you could focus on were Speirs’ deep grunts and his cock inside of you, you felt yourself getting pulled by your hair until you were mostly standing with your back pressed against his well-built, sturdy stomach. One arm closed in on your neck so that your throat was in the crook of his elbow while the other hand roamed around your body, pinching and kneading as it went, until it settled at groping your breasts.
The new angle allowed him to thrust deeper into you, so deep that you could almost feel him in your throat. Tears that had welled up in your eyes freely fell thanks to the restriction of air. When his hand moved downward from your breasts to your lower stomach, pressing down upon it, the pressure and fullness of his dick inside you intensified. You could tell you were ready to freefall from that peak again as your breath hitched with every thrust, walls clamping down around him. From the increasingly erratic rhythm of his thrusts, you could tell he was there with you.
Then, for the umpteenth time that night, Ronald Speirs surprised you. His mouth became a stream of praise and words of adoration, like you were some kind of angel and this was his altar, while his lips possessively decorated your neck and shoulders with dark marks you were sure you wouldn't be able to hide.
“Fuck, you were made for me, weren't you, sweetheart? You're, hah, so beautiful when you're under me. So perfect. My pretty little nurse.”
His soft words in his husky tone, though they threw you for a loop and definitely required your attention when you were back to thinking straight, sent you into the sweet release of your climax. He swallowed your pleasured scream with his lips on yours, gently bruising your lips with the passion of his kiss. You had no idea Ronald Speirs could be so tender and so dominant at once.
The sporadic clenching of your walls around him led him to his orgasm, and he bit into your neck with a low, long groan as he filled you with his warm release. Your body went limp against his, held up only by his arms around your torso. After the two of you regained your breath, he pulled out, and you quietly whimpered at the sudden emptiness. He carefully laid you down with your back to the metal table, tucked himself into his pants, zipped and buckled them, and looked around, searching for a towel to wipe yourselves off.
“The towels, uh, are over there.” You pointed in the direction of the cloth. “You can run some water over them in that sink, if you want.”
He nodded wordlessly and followed your directions while you laid there, thinking about tonight's events and wondering if maybe you had dreamed it all after a late night of cleaning up.
You were broken out of your reverie by a glass of water being placed next to you and a warm, damp cloth gingerly wiping the insides of your thighs and your privates. Speirs didn't dare to look at your face as he did so. Once he was finished, he looked around again for a place to discard the used towel. You laughed, saying, “I'll take care of it, sir.”
He set the towel down on the table. “Do you,” he started, but then paused, glancing at your still bare form and your flushed face, realizing how intimate this had become, “need help getting dressed?”
“I'll be fine, sir,” you said with a tired smile, “I know my way around some clothes.”
He nodded again, more to himself than in response to you, and picked up his helmet. The moonlight now illuminated all of his face, revealing the red that had risen to his cheeks, whether out of exertion or, if you were interpreting this right, shyness. He now made eye contact, his gaze decidedly gentler than when he walked in. “Goodnight, Nurse (Y/N).”
“Goodnight, Lieutenant.”
His eyes lingered for a second, his expression the same as the ones he would hit you with from across the base, before he turned, lit a cigarette, and left into the night.
Watching his retreating form and the smoke cloud dissipate behind him, you shook your head and pondered his strange deviation from the Speirs you knew, or who you thought you knew. As you got dressed and prepared to clean up the mess the two of you made, you came to the conclusion that maybe Ronald Speirs is more than the ruthless man the myths had made him out to be.
Maybe Lieutenant Sparky had a heart after all.
-
taglist: @ronsparky, @krispybearbouquet, @mads-weasley
#band of brothers#ron speirs x reader#ron speirs#ronald speirs#hbo war#band of brothers x reader#101st airborne#easy company#ronald speirs x reader#band of brothers imagine#band of brothers fanfic#hbo war fanfic#matthew settle#lord forgive me
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Knight in Dirty ODs
Ron Speirs x Reader
Masterlist
A/N: Hey! I've been in a Ron mood lately, so here is the product of that!! I do not own any characters except (y/n). Enjoy!
Summary: After having complications with her jump into Normandy on D-Day, (y/n) is luckily found by Ron Speirs.
Warnings: mentions of blood, death, broken bones (non-graphic)
D-Day: June 6th, 1944
"Flash."
(Y/n)'s heart beat out of her chest, waiting for the response that might never come. With her rifle held up, sitting up against a tree, she called out again towards the rustle in the bushes.
"Flash."
After a few seconds, she heard another rustle before a face popped out from behind a thicket.
"Thunder."
At the familiar voice, she sighed, leaning her head back against the rough tree bark.
It was Ron.
"(Y/n)? That you, sweetheart?" He asks, his view obscured by darkness.
"Yeah, it's me."
Crouching next to her, he scanned her face and noted the way her brow was pinched, cupping her cheek.
"You're hurt?"
Nodding slowly, she refused to let tears fill her eyes. "It's my leg. I think it's broken."
Leaning down, he kissed her temple softly. "It's okay. I know it hurts."
Ron glanced down at her leg quickly before moving to get a better look at it. As soon as he started to roll up her pant leg, she covered her mouth and let out a muffled cry.
He froze momentarily, heart clenching at her pain, but he had to continue to see the damage. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
When he finished rolling her ODs up to her knee, an unnatural bulge in her shin caught his attention.
With a sigh, he shook his head.
"It's broken. We can splint it and give you a syrette of morphine, but that's all we can do here."
"Ron, I don't know if I can make it to the meeting area. I can't ev-"
He moved to crouch beside her, taking her hand in his. "Yes, you can. We're going to get there together."
The sheer determination in his face convinced her they could. Ron quickly got out his first aid kit and gathered some sticks for her splint. Luckily for (y/n), adrenaline was still pumping in her veins, so the pain hadn't set in fully yet. Both she and Ron knew it was coming.
He pulled out the syrette and held it up. "Ready?"
With a nod, she bit her lip and waited for the prick of the needle. After a few seconds, she felt its prick, and her pain slowly ebbed away into a dull throb. Lazily, she closed her eyes and sighed in relief.
A ghost of a smile was on his face at her relaxation. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Ron quickly tied the sticks to her leg using strips of her chute. Thankfully, the morphine seemed to knock her out for a minute, so the only pained sounds he heard were quiet whimpers.
He grabbed his M-1 and watched their surroundings for a few minutes so she could rest. Glancing down at his watch, he groaned, knowing they needed to get moving. When morning came, it would be a lot harder for them to move undetected through the French countryside.
"(Y/n). Wake up, doll," he whispered. "I wish you could keep sleeping but we've got to get moving."
The woman's eyes slowly peeled open, and she smiled softly at the sight of Ron before her. "A girl needs her beauty rest."
"Well, you've had enough because you're already the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
A small laugh escaped her lips, but almost immediately, her brows creased.
"How're you feeling?" He asked, brushing her hair back off her sweaty forehead.
"Hurts, but I'll be okay."
"That's my girl."
Grabbing her discarded helmet a few feet away, he plopped it on her head. "Let's get you up."
Ron gripped her underarms and pulled her up as gently as he could. Using her good leg and his help, she stood, but not without white hot pain running up her leg.
Cursing, she threw her arm around Ron's shoulders, leaning on him heavily. He immediately slid an arm around her waist, gripping her hip and pulling more of her weight on him.
"Deep breaths, (y/n/n). The sooner we get to the meeting area, the sooner we can get you proper care."
As they slowly started through the forest, both knew that they had a long journey ahead of them.
"Based on my calculations, we're about 8 miles from the meeting zone."
"Alright," she grunted, taking a step. "We can do this."
1 Hour Later
"You need a break?" Ron asked, hearing (y/n)'s heavy breathing.
She shook her head. "No, I'm okay. I-I just want to get there as soon as possible."
Eyeing her warily, he sighed at her stubbornness. "Alright. But we're taking one soon."
He knew she had the bad habit of pushing through things without taking any time to rest. This often led to her being so exhausted she'd have to go see Doc Roe.
"Sounds good, Sparky."
Rolling his eyes, he returned his gaze to their surroundings, scanning for any unwelcome guests.
2 Hours Later
"That's enough. You need a break, sweetheart."
She scowled at the man. "I'm fine, Ron. We're getting close."
About 10 minutes before, he saw her good foot begin to drag on the forest floor, and honestly, Ron himself was getting tired from supporting her.
"I need a break, then." He replied, leading them over to a downed tree to sit on. Over the last few hours, pain etched her features, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it.
"How's the pain?" He whispered, already knowing the answer.
"It's fine."
"I know you're lying. I can see it on your face," he paused, gently turning her face to look at him. "Tell me the truth."
Her (y/e/c) eyes filled with tears as she threw he arms around him. "It's bad. It's all I can do from falling over every step. I know I'd be dea-"
Suddenly, a cry in German cut through the air, and Ron's eyes widened as he pushed (y/n) off the log and out of the way of the charging soldier. Landing on the ground in a heap, the pain from her leg sent its fiery tendrils across her body until her vision blurred.
Heart racing at (y/n)'s dazed state, Ron tried to grab his pistol, but the German was too close. At that moment, he was thankful for his hand-to-hand combat training at Toccoa, for he quickly got the upper hand and stabbed the man with his own knife through the throat.
He was out of breath as he watched the man meet his end. Panting, he quickly went to (y/n)'s unconscious side.
"(Y/n)!" He whispered, careful not to alert nearby Germans. "I'm sorry. You're okay, sweetheart."
Rolling her onto her back gently, his heart dropped at the sight of her seemingly sleeping face. With a curse, Ron quickly checked over her body for any additional injuries. Just as he was about to try and wake her, another rustle was heard in the trees. He froze, crouching, and pulled out his M-1, aiming it at the noise.
"Flash."
"Thunda'," a cajun accent responded, emerging from the shadows.
"Thank God," the Lieutenant sighed. "Doc, please help (y/n). She's got a broken leg."
As Roe slid onto her other side, he inspected the leg, wincing at its lump.
"What happened?" He asked, eyeing her unconscious form.
"Kraut ambushed us and I pushed her out of the way. It must have jostled the leg. Is she gonna be okay?"
"Probly' passed out from the pain. Did you give her morphine?"
"Yeah," Ron breathed shakily. "About 3 hours ago."
He nodded. "Good job with the splint."
Looking around the trio, Ron felt like they were being watched.
"Let's get moving."
He quickly bent down and hoisted (y/n) into his arms, grunting with the effort. While exhaustion was practically dripping off him, he pushed through, wanting the woman he loved to be safe.
Stepping out of the treeline at the meeting area, Roe started yelling for a stretcher. Seconds later, men came rushing to them. Ron carefully laid her on the stretcher, heart pounding.
She's safe now.
He stood there dumbfounded as the men carried her off to the aid station. Adrenaline had fueled him for the past few hours since the jump, and it seemed it was finally wearing off. His muscles started to ache, and his exhaustion finally settled into his bones.
"You can come with, sir," a private called from the group.
Ron broke from his trance, nodding at the man. "I've got to report to the CP."
With a heavy heart, he made his way to the CP, his thoughts on the (y/h/c) he couldn't get his mind off of.
D-Day + 1
Walking into the field hospital, Ron was hit with the stench of blood and death, which was common since their drop the day before. So many of their men were killed or wounded. The furrow in his brows disappeared at the giggle he heard from the corner of the room.
He knew that sound like the back of his hand.
Making his way over, a smile formed on his face seeing (y/n) awake. Although her lower leg was in a cast, and she had dark circles under her eyes, she had never looked so wonderful.
When she saw him, everything else faded away, including the nurse she was talking to. Noticing her daze, the nurse politely excused herself, giving the couple some privacy.
"Hey," he whispered, gently placing a hand on her hair and sitting on the edge of her bed.
"Hey, you. I was wondering when you were gonna show up."
Panic filled his veins. "I really wanted to stay with you, sweetheart, but th-"
"Ron," she laughed lightly. "I'm not upset. I know you've got a lot on your plate."
Relieved, he moved his hand to her cheek. "How're you feeling? They got you on some painkillers?"
"A little sore, but yeah, they've got me on some good stuff."
Looking into his eyes, her expression became solemn. "Thank you. I wouldn't have made it without you, Ronald."
"(Y/n), no matter what happens, I will never leave you behind, especially if you're wounded. I-I know I don't say it much, but I love you, doll."
A warmth spread through the young woman's body, creeping up her neck. "I love you, too, Sparky."
Ron glanced around them quickly, making sure no one was paying them attention before leaning down and pressing his lips against hers gently. The kiss was quick, but it conveyed all the emotions he wanted it to.
"I'm so glad you're okay, darlin'. Really. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Well, I don't know what I'd do without you, my knight in dirty ODs."
Let me know if you want to be tagged!! :)
#ron speirs fluff#ron speirs x reader#ron speirs#ronald speirs#ron speirs angst#band of brothers imagine#band of brothers fanfic#band of brothers#band of brothers imagines#band of brothers x reader#bandofbrothersedit#band of brothers masterlist#band of brothers headcanons#matthew settle#ronald speirs x reader#ronald speirs imagine#ronald speirs imagines#mads' fandoms#hbo war#hbo war x reader#hbowar#hbo war imagines#ron speirs x y/n#ron speirs imagine#ronald sparky speirs#sparky speirs
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